Walking with a mighty chip
Thinkin “aww I’m killin it”
He measures me soon enough
Realizing I’m hardly tough
Where is my progress
Supposed to be?
They discuss scar tissue
Anesthesia and rebreaking me
My ears over hear
Their frozen words
Head swarms high
Chirping birds
I tell myself
Hands up, surrender
Ease the mind
Control the temper
Letters2mom 