quick notes at the bar

one reason. that's all they need to cut me down, and they'll do it without blinking. me? i've got twenty thousand, twenty thousand, reasons to burn it all to the ground, and yet here i am, quietly sitting in that corner of the bar, swallowing every bitter pill the night has to offer, letting it rot in my chest like some kind of twisted offering. because that's the thing, i carry it all and still smile for the crowd like i am not breaking apart-