Freedom

And some of us are too dead to breathe, yet too alive to live.
Minutes are just the count down until our next life. Slowly slipping from one realm to the next.
We are on a continuum of "for better or for worse" and white picket fences.
A plan motorized we lose track of the flicker in our souls .
It's there. Dig deep and feed it oxygen.
Fuel it, frenzy driven.
Just take a lick of liquor and slip into your freedom.