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Scared of life
I look behind me
and see myself.
Both good and bad,
the bitter sweet memories
smile back at me.
And I’m comforted.
I know what’s happening.
I’m at home.
But I can’t go back.
Some things have to end.
I have a death grip on the past,
and it’s killing me.
Things change.
That has changed.
But I’m afraid to go
forward.
The future scares the
shit out of me,
and no one knows.
There’s no one I can tell.
No one will understand.
My silent tormentor and
I sit quietly together.
Hand in hand.
Basking in miserable uncertainty.
