Hate it had to be this way. Dealt with it readily. The pressure always a second away from getting to me. Not for nothing, I run because the residual pain still shoots through me. Looked in the mirror like, who me ? Hard to know when my smile makes crooked, of straight teeth. Happiness thief, I love the new me. Finely tune instrument. So what’s the cause of this pilgrimage to edit the sound. Death’s per-requite. The softest utterance, can be the loudest pound. pain comes in a notes. Usually seen even before the first.