yabs

I lost something that could have been great. Kept nothing but the scars of a memory that should never be. Regret, a bit of jealousy, seeps into my ravaged sanity. Bitten by the rabid dogs of desire. Competing for that one great morsel that all want to taste but few ever savor.  Lost in the whirlwind of time. Forgotten in my short absence. Replaced by someone who has more time. No friends in sight. Cursed to labor for the sake of others. Left alone and misunderstood. Simply because I dared to dream at the cost of my social ego. Weary from being the slave of my own personality. Saying what I want, admitting what I can give, asking for more than what I should be getting. You are right to forget me, but unfair for not uttering what I should have known. An hour, a day, a week has passed. I am still here. A slave to the freedom that I have set. A martyr for a cause that no mortal man or woman can ever fathom. I would rather have none by dawn than lose everything by dusk.  How comfortable was I to strip my soul bare for eyes that I thought were worthy. If I am wrong, I am unafraid. I have survived the holocaust many times over. But from this fork in the road we face, I take with me the memories and the battlescars of the past. To make me strong, to make me smart, to keep me on my guard. (To Be Continued...)