Singer-Songwriter

Cleaning out the carpet in the month of June
I am holding in a song
Wrapping my head around the fortunate ones
Beating you senseless with a delicate word
While you’d be out humming and hawing
I’d be here humming out the verse
Is ink all that heavy if there’s not much to say?
Does it press against your body
Like the girls do at the bar?
Do you fear it in the moments,
When they discover who you are?
Will you question all your memories or
Pour yourself another drink
It collapses under piles of pages
And bad sleep
Laying on the carpet in the month of June
I am holding a song
Shaking my head cause I’m a fortunate one