At the End of the Road

I was there, lying at the end of the road, looking for the exit sign, thinking about how to survive one more day, to dream one more night, to smoke a cigarette and write a reflection, to do instead of trying, to wake up instead of following a routine, to unfold what’s hidden, to steal a kiss from your lips, to be what we want to be, to have endless nights with conversations based on cigarettes, alcohol, and entertainment.

Read my mind, there is no self-control at the end of the road.