my brain is racked like a throat, cannot scream without another breath. nmy heart is weak like an overrun horse, it needs a chance to breath, to rethink. nthe breath is sacred, just like a chance to rethink. nthe chance feels like days, the horse grows lonesome, the heart mends. stop saying that you know what's right for me, that we are the same. nstop saying that we are the way we are, that we cannot change. nstop telling me that i've had my chance, that i am too late. ncause you can't tell me what i've got to say