I don’t stop,
won’t give up on this, even if it hurts me in the end.
Looking out towards the west,
I see only dimming stars.
I know there’s nothing out there for me.
Yet, I still let my mind wonder if there ever could be.
I don’t fit in any mold.
Sometimes I worry I’ll never achieve or be enough.
More and more I crave the risky adventure, the sweating in the tireless journey.
More and more I’m seeking a little bit of anything else.
If we’re being completely honest, there’s a bigger part of me that worries I’ll never be satisfied.




Leave a comment