Heath Houston, I read a poem you wrote and posted today about kissing a woman. It was compelling and certainly intimate, effectively so. I would say something semi-clinical to you but I have been hammered once or was it twice by writers for that. You are a big boy, a grown man, a man with a plan, a man who can write, a man who suffers the demon of stage fright, a man with a cat, a man who sings well not great, a man with hidden demons, a man with a demon cat, a man alone, a man embracing solitude, a man with a razor sharp mind, a man who can’t “cut” but a man who cuts a sweet path through the briars and tangles and rocks and weeds of Medium.com. Peace to you.