My hands are shaking,
The smile is no longer faking,
Sweaty after a realization of my dark lungs,
No longer caving to drown the the butterfly chained to a ball and chain in my gut,
I put down the bottle and pick up my sneaks,
Perspiration leaks,
As I wheeze,
The butterfly is set free,
And I feel like for the first time i can taste the breeze,
Shakey knees,
And a new song to sing,
Grabbing the new beat,
So I take off my shoes,
Step inside the fresh door,
Starting again with a smirking core,
With my hands that won't stop shaking,
And a smile I'm no longer faking.