End of a line
It's like the absence of a heartbeat,
a hole in the chest that sucks death in
and leaves me stranded on the shores of my fate.
It's like I'm missing a chunk of my soul,
like the foundations of my bodily home
had worn away with the winter breeze
and had congealed into clouds of solid pain
on the other side of the horizon.
It's the end of a line, a career change,
a leap of faith into the unknown territory
of "actually having to do stuff,"
as they like to say,
and I'm scared!
I'm scared to dive into the frozen water
of my forgotten dreams!
I'm scared to leave the safe haven
of doing with my thoughts and words!
I'm scared to tread on this line of life
that's bound to end
in tears of lies and smiles of hate.
So I write and I hope for the best,
for there's nothing that can end
a true line of happiness.