I have felt this way before,

sort of numb

with a rising rage that cannot be ignored

the exit path I look back at now

didn’t look so obvious at the time

 

there are times that schism, that

crack us apart in ways

that make the beginning of the universe

pale, and tremble

 

darkness holds no candle

to the bleakness of a soul

the wildness of cataclysm begins

to look like the center of control

 

I cannot hold the lantern up

to light your path,

this road

is not the same as mine

 

though

I’d give much to give you hope

 

the journey is the destination; at some point

you look back at the winding loops

of your trail

and marvel