The End//Incineration of “The Farewell Letters”

I heard from so many perspectives in the last twenty four hours about what makes a man weak, buckle to his f*****g knees. When manipulation of the masses have failed and the very core of the problem is found to have been you all along, your persona disassembles. Fragment pieces linger along the local bar floor where visitors and close friends walk on when your not there. It only leaves a smile for the victim that watches your social image decline.

(The awakening of a long history has finally correlated together in a span of 24 hours. The pieces match and it’s time to sign off. I received my first apology last night and that’s all I needed to realize it was never me all along)