As reality comes pounding at the door,

making unreasonable demands for recompense as it kicks you in the teeth

steel toe boots showing no remorse

There comes a time where we cross the line, a point of no return

Nursing our wounds with vices that act as first aid kits,

Covering a gaping hole like a band-aid as sorrow spills outward into other orifices.

Instead of coming to terms and facing the pain in the mirror

we blink away,

coping but never confronting the oncoming wave that will crush us against jagged rocks.

People drown not from falling into the deep end;

they fester there, never attempting to reach the shore.


Author’s Words for Thought

“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.” -Henry Thoreau