I’ve been circling the pit lately.
I hear the voices from within its muddy walls and the world stops.
I get those panicked breaths and I wonder what’s brought it on.
Staring down from my cliff, waiting for the tendrils to pull me in I wait on the rim.
I wait for something worse to happen, I wait for a lost job, a tragedy to befall my loved ones where the tendrils pull me back.
I feel the pillow over my face suffocating that smothers the life I want and takes away the life I have.
I stand at the rim looking in, hoping for something to bring me back.
But as the tendrils reach I put words on the page, for that’s my only solace.
The words count at the end of the day and the fight back the monsters.
The words push me away from the rim, away from the tendrils as their claws rip at the muddy precipice of the pit.