This is not a life love I cling to, just a trail of breadcrumbs I still follow, even though these no longer lead anywhere except deeper
into the woods, this imaginary trail, this one in a lifetime track I keep on because
of what it once meant, even though it no longer does. Even with my eyes closed
I stroll along it, unerringly, clinging to the memory that is no longer real,
no longer tangible, yet necessary for survival, this need to follow something
somewhere even when it leads nowhere, bread crumbs along this dark forest floor
we call life, a forest filled with wolves and other beasts we choose not to
see, looking for the best outcome when we are never sure of any outcome at all,
not a life love, just a foolish hope held together by you
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