I am haunted by the past.
Every day I find myself second guessing my actions, looking for that speck of unreasonableness that definitively marks me , me.
What is it that I want, I am not really sure. I know this- I am tired and would much rather enjoy being unraveled.
This is one pleasure I am afraid to give into. There is freedom in this and it tantalizes me. But I do not have the luxury of breaking into pieces because if I do, I am afraid no one will pick the pieces nay no one would know, to pick them up
Draft from the past that’s still valid