Roads. Roads to anywhere. Road trips. Roads. Roads to nowhere. Roads to somewhere. I'd choose the path where there are bruises by the roadside, showing signs that someone was there, someone took that road to somewhere, leaving sticks and stones, kicked around. If only i had the power to heel those bruised roads. They're like our hearts. Bruised, left alone that way. But time can heal the pain that has long kept inside. Sometimes, time can't. So it depends on how you choose to come to your senses...and choose the right path to somewhere? Cool.
