Eulogy to a dream
My life has changed in a real way. And I want to scream: fuck, world, why? Was it me, was it her, does it matter, probably not.
At one point in time I had a dream. It was safe and warm, comfortable. The wheels were on the truck.
Now not so much!
My family and friends are probably worried. This is something I should not be able to survive, not the me that was two years ago.
That dream I had has not been real for some time now, its ok, I’m ok.
This is me in print