Words are a gift I seem to abuse
notebooks and pens all strained with misuse
my speech is fragmented, a point is not given
yet somehow words cause me to just keep on living

a text from a friend, an email from you
a post from a person who knows what to do
I read an article about people like me
and pray to a god that I'll someday be free

to write what I want and to write it so well
and in such a way that no one can tell
That I'm trying to hard, or I'm just spit-balling
That I cling to these words to keep me from falling.