Member-only story
Begin Again
Security is an Illusion
What happens if your whole world opened too quickly? You begin frantically searching for meaning, only to find you imagined you already understood it. Would you begin again, or would you settle, resorting instead to a life of collecting fragments?
Would you hide?
Would you shrink?
Would you be merry, but not really?
Would you choose to numb yourself, or ask a hundred questions, the chief why?
What would you do?
You can not go back.
The damage is done.
Would you resort to withdrawal, never to show your ugly mug again, or would you wait?
Whistle while you wait?
Collect pieces of your soul for the coroner, while you wait?
What would you do?
I would dare peel out.
I’d peel so hard my fingernails would break.
If I weren’t a ninny and only in my imagination, I’d scrape them to the beds, but I am a ninny, so I bite them instead.
It’s easier that way.
To digest a life, well worn, yet so deviously mishandled.
