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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.