I hate lying about them.
I hate making excuses about it.
I hate having to hide them.
I hold them precious to me.
Hopefully one day,
I will look at them and smile,
Because then the pain will be gone.
I will have made it through.
But that light at the end of the tunnel is so far away.
What if that light is just a train?
With the head lights glaring at me?
And its not me thats moving towards the light...
Its the light thats moving towards me?
I feel that I'm on the road to disaster,
And I'm only at a pit-stop.
Eventually,
As I fear,
I will get back on that road.
I dont want to go back,
But I'm not sure how not to.