How many more times do I have to turn that corner,
before my heart stops stirring.
In the still of the night, it's easy to let the steering wheel make the decisions.
Pulling towards an avenue of regrets,
alluringly sucking me towards.
As though there's anything waiting at the end of the road that doesn't eat up time.
And time is all I have.
I want to give in,
except I don't.
I turn the wheel 20 degree anti clockwise,
and I'm back on the road of recovery.
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