The odds are not in our favour. There’s little hope left.
What optimism existed has been strangled to the very last breath. Shuddering on strangers floors at 5 am; focus a shattered mess near the litter box that this apartment’s aroma resembles far too clearly; allies become foes in the blink of an eye.
But This Won’t End.
Augment me. Cut out the poison; detach from chaos; pacify desire; quell instinct;
But don’t Quit.
Too many hours logged, too many miles conquered, too many grey hairs.