In Search of
Self Loathing

You hope you’ll find the one, we all do. But in those bitter moments deep in the night, doubt creeps in. You might know what you seek: A woman you can let inside your walls, who makes you thankful for making it through all the hurt and darkness that led you to her. But bitter realism forces the acknowledgement: it can’t be healthy to grasp so hard. Sore fingers might slip destiny. But you still thirst for a taste, you trudge through the chase, for one look at her eyes