The heart stops,
stomach drops,
and fear attacks
tearing and scraping the insides.
Stepping back, it’s not the right time.
It’s too delicate; my hands are tied.

I stall. I ruminate. I do all the things not to destroy this.
I dread that I will, gravely… to the point of not moving.
This is what it’s like when people become a ghost.
It’s too much to go forward.
So, I turn
in the opposite...

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Waves crashing

in and out

up and down

pushing and pulling

A knock on the door

beating louder and louder

waking my fibers

restless and unrelenting

Louder it knocks

heartbeat pulsing

anxiety levels rising

these fears in me won't subside

Breathing in and out

imagining the waves 

the calming waters 

I am one with them

and how they rise aga...

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