Like a
wrecking ball, destruction is more likely than construction.
I’ve run out
of bricks of motivation.
The cement
that holds everything together is weakening
and crumbling underneath my two feet.
Each step on
this road slowly cripples
a once
effortless motion.
The
emotional stress feels more like a 9-5
than a form
of entertainment.
Depression
sets in gradually,
but is now
in full force;
slamming through
my sturdy walls
Like thin glass.
Confusion
and hate
are my main
fuel source.
And the
temptation of rebuilding next season
might not be
enough to pay off the debt of the tears
passed and
to come.
Most would
leave the rubble and move on,
but to leave
something so ingrained,
that meant
freedom and passion
seems
wasteful and unimaginable.
I’m at a
standstill,
unsure of my next move.
Wishing
someone had an answer.
