When you find yourself punctuated at the far end of a sentence, begin again. When the words have not been summoned properly, fill the lungs with air as warm as lemon water in the mornings. Climb back onto your gunning cowboy perch. Swallow that slippery pride. When the dead-end of day has been reached, go the other way. Take a cold splash and damnit just do it. There is no easing in. Punish yourself just a little, then dump those thoughts beneath the bed of indulgence and take the light to your shame. When it sees you coming, it will no longer hide.