one by one they come, and each one takes a bit of you with them, and with each departure a part of you dies....... until one day you find you're left standing,
alone,
empty,
a void,
disillusioned,
left with nothing to offer anymore, left to face the harshness of reality in the face, and trembling underfoot, not from fear, but from exhaustion at having tried so hard, and given so much, only to be rewarded with stale indifferent faces and nonchalence...... you've grown so accustomed to the sting of unfulfilled expectations that it now comes across as a dull throb in e back of your head, unable to be rid of......... and the ghosts of your memory come together, one by one, and you face your greatest enemy: yourself, and as they merge into an unfathomable formless apparition you become engulfed and lose yourself.... in your memory, your past, your mistakes.....

is it so wrong to want to believe? to want to believe in the goodness of man? that man is genuinely good? that when you give, you receive the same level of reciprocation? or is it so hard to be cynical? to want to believe that man is intrinsically selfish? and that trying to look for someone worthwhile is a lost cause?

i find myself caught; in wanting to believe, and find the goodness in man, yet at the same time being exploited by man from the very trust in place in him, and wanting to be cynical, to learn to trust only in myself, yet finding it too hard to accept the fact that man is rotten.

i want, yet i fear.
and from that self-same fear is born a new want, a debauched want,
which serves only to bring me further down the abyss of discontent and lusting,
and into the very fire which i sought to extinguish in my enemy.

like the flower bending in the gale, i am too weak to stand on my own in the face of adversary
i need someone to save me
from the demons i face,
but mostly, from the demon i'm becoming