I just cringe when I look at the empty road that I’m suppose to take. Everyone is going the other way. And I don’t want to travel by myself. Shivers run up and down my spine and then spread uneasily to the very ends of the hairs on my arms and legs. And everything in between.

Nauseous. Heartbroken. Hardship.

Everything is all just one fucked up cycle. And I feel caught in between. Just trying to differentiate between all the puzzle pieces that someone...

carelessly scattered on the floor,
in the dead middle of winter,
which dangerously froze over,
then smashed on the floor,
broken into little pieces,

...to cut the very flesh of the hand
that was trying to make amends.

The very hand that loved it, desired it, broke it, and had the heart to fix it. So break the amender. What do you have left?

Because everything ends up broken.

Just like you and me.

Just as broken as you and me.

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