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Ramble.

There's this voice in the back of my head whispering little thoughts, every day spilling words into the vortex to cause a chain reaction of action each day that I step foot on this earth. Some days I shake and shiver, wonderin' if it's the cause I want. Some days I take and take a single breath one after the other. And whether or not I'm ready to take the leap, that little voice keeps on and on, steady thunderin' in my brain as I snap both my legs together as the ledge reaches out and that voice straps my thoughts right to the purpose that I belong. And still each day I wake and I wonder, am I becoming what I want. And each day I ponder and I shake because I just cannot be sure. Yet, there's a little bit of a voice entirely committed to the choice that I settle with both feet upon. And although I'm never certain, and my heart, filled with its nervous palpitations, pitters and pats as I sit and stare past the curtain, eyeing the world with its thisses and thats that I'm not even sure I want to obtain, but still so effectively contains, I realize a couple things. I may not know my direction, but I'm not lost. I may be filled with one too many faults that are in need of a correction, but I'm not broken. So, each day a voice whispers in the back of my head, and each day I whisper a little bit back and even though I'm a bit scared of the mystery of life, an epiphany brings me back: I may not know my place, but that voice keeps supportin' my claim and my head keeps saying the same, so I'll just go ahead and keep this motherfuckin' smile on my face.
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Written by
shea-vogt
American
Published
Dec 2, 2013
Lines·Words
22·309
Notes

12/2/13.

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