Limbo

I’ve reached a crossroads.
I’m at the corner of Don't Give A Fuck Avenue
and Give It Just One More Try Boulevard.
My internal GPS crashed and left me
without sense or direction.
The human map is officially lost.

Moving in either direction has consequences;
ones that I’m not sure I want to face.
I’m fucked if I move,
I’m fucked if I don’t.

Choosing the lesser of two evils,
still leaves me on a road
headed straight towards
a custom fit personal hell.

The peanut gallery has no words of wisdom,
just ballads of ridicule;
so it looks like I have to do this solo.
Paranoia has me convinced
whichever foot I start off on
will be a step in the wrong direction.

Should I linger to see if fate will show me favor
and send me down the path laced with good intentions
and even better returns?
Or should I trust intuition against my lack of better judgment?

There is no future living in this purgatory.
I must move on to pastures free of uncertainty,
leaving the baggage I’ve collected behind
and embrace the unknown and all its possibilities.