You said, ' I'm scared'.
And then everything changed.

The old fear surfacing yet again, rising in waves, choking black whirlpools brimming with dread and regret , and you felt lost like a child. It spreads like a slow poison, tainting your every waking moment. Such a burden would too great to bear, it would be nearly incomprehensible (Is it possible to run from the truth forever?) Rising tentatively upwards are the distended cadences of your prayers, as they ascend to meet the indifferent night skies.

Hesitation cuts into my side like a knife, and my thoughts are thrown into disarray, like a flurry of birds’ wings beating soundlessly in the air. I struggle to find something to say, in the hopes of bringing some semblance of comfort. But for once, I find myself faltering. All that comes to mind is ' please. no. no’, an inconsequential refrain, a pointless plea with the God I sometimes don't even believe is there. How foolish- as if my words could somehow dissipate the fear, could reach deep inside of you and still the churning red rivers flowing within the network of veins.

And so, helpless, I can only watch, and wait.