And I never know how to explain the fear I feel, except to say "It's like a storm?". When the whistle blows and the cracks in the sky get more vivid and I remember the 14th day when the rain was so fierce and I was so scared of a spoiled little girl with claws a mile long and I was right to be. This voodoo magic of silent worry has always worked before, but now it failed and I fell into a rabbit hole of anger and maybe even hate. And, oh, now I know regret like chewing on bile in my sleep because I was focused on kindness and I forgot that sometimes it doesn't pay.
I've never been one to play a game or take a risk but I'm right here, where I've always been and shaking and reaching out. I want things. Like to be a new penny in your pocket and to let go but it's a process just like any other. I only want to be better than the bottom of the heap. I only want outshine those who are broken...in your eyes. No veils, no lies, no holding on to that which can't be repaired and no blank and manipulative eyes.
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