Standing on the precipice Anticipating the plungeYet, poisonous talons of fear Tear into my flesh Sinking deep into my hand,anesthetizing prefrontal cortex Pumping procrastination obstructing my veinswith anxiety and doubt Blue inky blood Childish scribblingsEtched underneath Ashen complexion and dark circlesSurrounding my eyes Fidgety fingers Ripping at nails and skinfingers bleeding The sound of the ...

Tracks made in the snow Distinct. Wind sweeps it away. Clouds curtain the light The shadows deepen until Sun warms my face and shoulders.