The chill crawls up my spine
Its tendrils of fingers intertwine
I walk a never ending line:
Anxiety that goes on

I stumble forward, determined but weak
I can’t remember how to speak
But from my mouth: a mournful shriek
Will there be a dawn?

Whispers begin to fill the air
They come and go from nowhere
Were they even real? Is nothing there?
Fear has a reek

What brought me to this dark place
What set me on this eternal race
What being or spirit, what face?







Ah, it’s finals week.