• Too Long, but not Long Enough

    by  • March 27, 2012 • * Safe for Work *, Thoughts, Waxing Poetic • 0 Comments

    I can feel it coming again — step by pounding step. Hot, rank breath growing stronger with every jerk of the clock’s thinnest yet longest hand. The metal clanking of chains that bounces around my ears and consumes my train of thought. I swore I would be strong and keep its grimy fingers out of my life. I erected walls as one might a fortress, intended for the best defense, but it doesn’t seem to even notice the granite defenses as it walks right through, stepping over the rubble into my front yard.

    Where have I gone wrong? What have I done to attract this monster; to draw it back into my once-healing life? I’m tired of walking in the chains it always brings with it. I’m tired of its foot in my back, forcing my face in the dirt where dust particles outnumber oxygen molecules inside my lungs.

    This is madness in perfect sanity; a tempest in absolute serenity. Surrounded by peace yet filled with conflict, buried deep within the skin, hidden from view from anyone else. But I feel it. I see it. I loathe it with the fiercest of passions.

    Begging is for the weak in the face of a monster that feeds off of fragility. It laughs at my pathetic pleas because it knows what I am capable of, or rather not. What have I done to prove myself capable of routing out this monstrosity? How have I shown the strength required to maintain proper defenses that work?

    Maybe someday the strength will well up inside of me like a kindled flame, igniting the faith and the will I seek. Maybe that day will be today.

    One can only hope.

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