bravery

what makes us brave enough to take the plunge, straight into the deep end? my muse, broken plastic-eyed doll, lies at the bottom of a sodden well and my eyes do this trick of sorts wherein they're filled, quite suddenly, with tremoring, salty tears reminding me i'm still standing. and with a gasp we surface again, gulp in the tense air.

i learn about melancholy in the confines of a room and within the walls it washes over us in a gentle wave. all we can do is keep, breathing. one foot in front of the other till we finally, arrive. and the words have now run, completely dry.

but you know what, we always return. life goes a full circle