I hold onto a grace not often given. Reminding myself that ignoring the predators isn’t the solution. But common sense and self-dialogue are a much better way to deal with the problem. But as the clock on the wall slowly ticks away. The inadequacies of the past haunt my mind. Sending me into spiraling moments of worthlessness.
I don’t know how many of you can relate. But those ancient emotions don’t feel any better now than they did then. So I wilt like the daffodils hit by frost. Once holding the promise of spring, while now only holding on to the glories of an eminent past. Preachin’ to the choir only brings up notes of trumped-up glory. While distancing yourself from the long-held truth that fear only reaps fear. So much so, that oftentimes surviving is the only thing I can do.