I think I'm at a crossroads and it's showing up in my writing, especially the poetry.

These questions unanswered, answers unquestioned, it's killing me. How is it possible to live life by the rulebook, when half the rules are unwritten? Am I simply supposed to know these things? Am I the only one out there completely and utterly lost, with no direction and a forgotten destination? The map isn't lost, its been torn to bits, burnt and the ashes thrown into the Dead Sea.

Life's just a web of lies, lies we depend on; lies we cling to for the sakes of our sanity - who knew our reality could be tipped so easily. And we turn back, to follow the footsteps of our past, but they're gone. We're stranded really, in the middle of nowhere, with a hazy future, a forgotten past. Yet we cling to hope, a hope for a better day, an un-guaranteed future, and forget the sands of time, which cut our soles so bad, we walk. Step after step. Day in, day out.

Maybe one day it'll be too much, maybe we'll take our last step and collapse - yet we'll live, live for our last breath.

***


Do you stay up wondering?