Is this how you imagined it, when you set out?
City streets, crossroads, seeking new faces.
They look the same, no longer strange, because everything has changed… Were there other plans to slip away?
And could you run, could you hide, or fathom an alternate life; with an ending that may have been written all along?
Its one hell of a ride. When it’s over, who decides? I can’t begin to imagine how you feel.
Just let go of the wheel.
Were there faces and names, broken engagements all written in flames, ashes trailing off in the sky. Sparing everyone else, to make them happy instead of yourself.
How well I play the victim.