Cut Teeth - Typesetter

Considering the context, the dirty sheets and the stained mattress and bribing

sleep when it wouldn’t come, how I held my breath and I took my fucking chances.

I don’t believe in fate but this had to happen.

Considering the outcome;

shaken men who know what they’re made of,

who met the edge and returned but never really returned, for better or for

worse.

I wouldn’t go back.

I prefer my memories untarnished.

An awareness of the gravity is enough for me;

perhaps that’s cowardice.

We’ve no fate to squander, no great purpose or hell to pay.

You’ll cut your teeth here too or learn to live with it either way.