I'm ok
While the light dims, the fire cools and the sound mutes, I walk. The path ahead waits for no one, but my steps are heavy and my tracks keep fading, leaving no legacy behind, no trace of what made me strong, and now I'm weak and tired. It is important to remember where one comes from, but it becomes impossible when the fog is so thick you can't even see your shadow. The puddle under my feet is so muddied, there is no way I could see my reflection in it. But if I did, would I like what I'd see? Would that face be smiling or grinning back at me? I keep making the same mistake just for the sake of warmth. I keep stumbling on the same stone in my way, as if it followed me. I can't seem to let go of this stupid idea. The thought of needing to be held. The error of holding on to the thorns and killing my thirst with the blood that drips from my grip. I wish to focus on growth, but I can't even escape the damage, and at this point it feels self inflicted. I trusted too muc...