I know you’re tired of the shifting
Between shimmering and rotting…
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I know you’re tired of the shifting
Between shimmering and rotting…
Sometimes I think it’s gone and am convinced I’m free, even if I know it’s just for a little while. “I’ve had a good week”, I say to myself, and I say to others, and I’m smiling.
Then there’ll be someone in the know…
That beast awakens again tonight.
It smells my weakening will, and my confusion.
It smells them, and its appetite is aroused, after fasting for days.
It salivates at the thought of me;
at the thought of tasting me.
Sometimes all I have to do
Is stand firm glaring
Insist upon my place
And it will yield the path…
I hope I’ll have so much more to say;
Fear fear fear…
for now it hunts and for now it haunts….
The maximum speed of a pendulum
Is at the lowest point of its arc…
I thought I had it beat. I thought it was gone for good. Why won’t it stay gone?
On feeling more hopeful, more victorious, more triumphant than what it wants to allow you.
It’s so quiet sitting in the parked car at home. I can hear my own blood near my ears.