Open Ended

Where does it start?
Altho I cannot see the end,
I belive it exists in me somewhere,
and if i could just find it,
then my mind would be at ease.
No longer hastilly pacing the line.

On which step was it that I faultered?
She beckons me with her eyes,
Only a glance.
Not trying to send the wrong impression.
But its too late.
That has already been done.
Where do we go from here?
Well if its open ended then its safe to say,
Wherever.
Wherever the wind carries us.
Our wings will do all of the work.
The fearthers have their purpose too.

But promise that when we land you will hide them for me.
People stare with such contempt and desire,
I feel guilty. But it is not my fault.
Someone has to take the blame,
and when they do,
It had better be for the right reason.
Exceptionally good taste.
But no style whatsoever.

He pushes on,
Insomniac, in this world of reality.