April 19th, 2025

Most days, I feel as if I’m grasping at straws,

like a cat gripping the edge of a well with all her claws.

But, unlike her, if I manage to get out–

I can’t trek this Earth without fear and doubt.

It feels as if someone swirled a ladle inside my brain.

The memories–cracked and fragmented–yet the pain remains the same.

The resourceful rescuer that lives in my head–

–has tried its hardest to put the tormenting thoughts to rest.

But the benevolent body–it never forgets.

It may silence the screams, but it stores them as stress.

Then, one day, when nothing seems to have gone awry at all–

–as the trees shed what is dead, and autumn leaves begin to fall.

A piercing cry echoes through the crisp air.

The horror in her howling is almost too much to bear.

“Someone needs my help!”; so I search frantically around to see–

–only to find that the bleeding bellow escaped from none other than me.