61 Miles

61 Miles

It was when I first realized
that it was over.
The road stretched out directly in front
of me. My pulse quickening as I read
the mile marker.
61 miles, it said.
To what? I replied.

To disappointment.
The most extreme feeling of anxiety
and sadness follows.
Cast down and out of the life
I yearned for so effortlessly
and lost much to soon.
Death of a bond
made clear by too much love,
by my hand of betrayel.

To resentment.
Not for him. Never for him.
But for myself, I'll make an exception.
The one time in life
when despite all the encouragement received
self loathing cannot disappear.
Knowing only of one assumption.
It's your fault.
Take it because you deserve it.

To depression.
Hot tears of sorrow trickle
in slow rivulets down my cheeks
hollowed from desperation.
Blinding as an attempt to drive goes immoral.
Don't cry, mother says, just persist.
Towards a looming mountain
of disgust.
Make him miss you, mother says,
but only if you want him too.

61 miles to go.
Dont cry, mother says.
It's hard to reflect and drive
when all there is
is thoughts of decay.