The Decision

The decision, it trembles from my lips. It terrifies me, so many things do these days. My palms sweat, the sensation as repugnant as holding an expired fish, but it's mine isn't it? Thunder rushes in, drowning out all other sounds, people talking, and in my chest it races faster as if it may outrun the world. My skin is burning with the fear like a frigid fire eating its way through, inside; blood boils to an impossibly horrifying temperature, and I am being crushed from the inside out. Thoughts wither immediately and I am left with nothing but their useless husks; a tentative tongue whips across these lips. I ache in the strangest way. Am I dying? Is this the end for this pathetic creature? Oh yes...the decision, it shivers on my withheld breath. I'm too scared to breathe anymore...isn't that a funny joke? I look out across those fleshy plains, a strange chaos of limbs and hair, but it's the faces I'm afraid of, those angry knowing eyes and mouths. I don't want to be here. Do you know this? How is it amongst the mass of cheeks I feel so lost and meek? How can one be invisible, insignificant, but while craving for a kindred soul still meet this cruel desire with a desperate fear. Somewhere down between the folds of deceit and a trampled soul I lost to the darkness of all things, and I surrendered to these primitive instincts. Fight or Flight, the possibilities snaking through my cries. I hold a shaking hand up, and It's all between the rest of you and me. I can't beat this...I can't win! Negatives I shout! Only arrogance and mundane anxiety takes me now, and kisses me, a disheartening embrace. The decision, how it kills me, takes me down as far as I will go and more. My weakness trembles from my lips, and like before I let it gather in my arms. Ah, my friend...my old and well known enemy. The numbing pain spreads across my eyes, my chest, my legs, and it is my heaviest sin to accept what destroys me most of all. My panic won, I ran, I hid, and now I'm back again, sinking down again in the void of this constructed womb. Shhh...it says...I've got you now...sleep again...don't ever weep again in the comfort of these decayed arms. There's no decision to be made, not now, not then, and not ever, even once, again.

Author's Note

A small paragraph pertaining to my personal and all consuming fear. It is a war inside my mind every moment, and something as simple as a decision can set it off.

Reviews

[John Phoenix Hutchinson..]

Well written piece from the deepest soul in you. Remember angst does have a positive, it leads to great art as is the case her.

[DarknessPeering]

Thank you so much. I agree. Trials in life build interesting people, and fuel for the artist to create even more interesting art. I truly appreciate your review. :)