It’s

Working

For

Now.

Fear 

Is

The combustible

Engine

We drive

Barely

Navigating

This dirt

Road— 

Narrow,

Bumpy, 

Endless.

Dead

End

Signs

Everywhere,

Looking

For

Off

Ramps,

Seeing

Nothing

But

Torment.

Exhausted,

Thirsty,

Without

Appetite

Being

Responsible

Despite

Everything.

Is

This

Being

Responsible?

Barely

Surviving;

Constantly

Depleted?

Objects

In

Mirror

Are 

Closer

Than 

They 

Appear.

Difficult

Choices

Increasingly

Limited,

Seeing

No

New

Options.

Not

A

Path

But

A ditch

From which

Wheels

Spin.

Ditch

The vehicle

Transporting

Nowhere

As this fear

Feels

Safer than

Others.

It’s 

Familiar,

Albeit

Amplified.

Convinced

That

Alternate

Routes

Do

Not

Exist

Now,

And

Alternate

Facts

Prevail,

Stop

Believing

This

Stuff!

Doing

Something

Else

Can work.