is very much a part of me. An old friend clasping their arms around me in the grocery store. The one I saw… the one I ducked behind a shelf to hide from unsuccessfully.
There are moments I fear that it consumes me. Mustering up the strength to sip my morning coffee. Fighting the urge to buy a plane ticket to nowhere. There is no in between. Just those fleeting moments where both parts consume me.
That is where I am. This is where I lay. Alongside the depression and pull of perfection into a whirlwind of anxiety.
I bury my face deep into the pillow of my emotions. Scared I will slip through the soft cracks; terrified that my fingers will fumble onto an unraveling thread. And I will yank. Draw back my hand… and sink into the hole beneath the bed of my mind.
What’s down there?
I don’t dare.
I don’t care.
I don’t leap from the fragile trembling tight rope to the building before me for fear of the darkness beneath me.
If I did, would I find the latch to the withered window? Or dangle my feet for an eternity?
This heart of mine aches… this is where I write my unremarkable words.
Mania is coming…