I am comforted by the possibility that there are others that have reached and will reach the same cross roads that have forsaken me… that have caused rage and loneliness, panic and numbness...
Everything I have done… done for myself I have failed, everything I have done for others has never been out of reach.
None of which I can have and only offer to others.
I grow disillusioned at times; tired by the miles but not the years, those that have gone by and have escaped me… A daunting past that never leaves… scares that lay among the paths
Everything for them… and nothing for me
Does it Stop?
