Traveling down this fretful path
It feels impossible and lonely
Like I've missed the meat of the story and am aimlessly wandering in the background of my own chaos,
Outside cries for help wallow
Later do I learn they were slipping from between my own two lips,
I signed up for a mystery novel
Unaware that the
Unpredictable,
Adventurous,
Wild,
Terrifying journey was not one of the outside world
It was a journey of myself,
And for all the mindless wandering
Across pages,
And worlds,
Across this fretful and beaten down path
I have still yet to discover
The climax of the story
In which I thought I was meant to be the main character
