Tried to grasp the crazy we had.
The harder I tried, the more I took on.
The more I took on, the heavier we felt.
I was young, dependent and full of some fantasy love.
The weight of it all suffocated my soul.
The fantasy faded in the realness settled in.
The real became a massive mind fuck of whose crazy is whose.
The messy blend of two lives plus a lineage.
Well, today my crazy looks a lot like wild.
Looks a lot like free.
Looks like day by day, moment to moment, and truth by truth.
It looks hot and messy and full of piss and vinegar.
My crazy looks bold and limitless.
Looks like letting go of who I once had to be.
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