The cold cuts through like a slip with a switchblade, but a fury in my chest keeps me moving. My eyes burn holes in the faces of the human roadblocks attempting to keep me trapped. Freedom is so close I can taste it. The idea of a happy life so nearly tangible, I can feel it around me like static electricity. If this fails, I may go cold like the lake-effect snow under my shoes. There will be no figurative kindling to keep my heart aflame. Hopelessness threatens suffocatingly, terrifyingly.
It's a risk letting my guard down, allowing my feelings to be so easily affected. It feels like a loss of control, but the real loss lies in staying stagnant, allowing the quicksand to rise steadily. I have to remember to keep the fight in me.
Fear is not reason enough to give up.
It's a risk letting my guard down, allowing my feelings to be so easily affected. It feels like a loss of control, but the real loss lies in staying stagnant, allowing the quicksand to rise steadily. I have to remember to keep the fight in me.
Fear is not reason enough to give up.
