Superstite

Sometimes life doesn't come together like a puzzle, but like a long, crumpled supermarket receipt with items you can't remember when or why you bought. Every line is filled with resentment, pride, or envy of other people's Barbies and clean plates. And then bam, and faith returns that even from cells and debts, you can grow armour from rhyme and audacity. The music plays like a confession set to a beat, but instead of candles, there are spotlights, and instead of repentance, there's the bare "that's how it was." And the louder the truth, the easier it is to breathe. After all, if you can't come out dry, at least come out honest, with a microphone instead of a sword. You live infrequently, but truly only once. And if you're going to play, go all in.