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One day, I will summit the mountain of my own mind Rocky and daunting as the trail may be How many times has the pickaxe of a thought struck gold in a vulnerable vein – the sheer cliff face crumbling away beneath my clenched fists filled with loose gravel? Or the crevasse of a memory opened up without warning, threatening to swallow me whole? I have been buried beneath avalanche after avalanche of anxiety, lost my footing just as the peak came into view through early-morning mist As many failed attempts as it takes, I will keep climbing toward the pinnacle of my potential where all the fears and doubts that towered over me once will seem microscopic from such a staggering height. – mrg
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May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 8:16 PM UTC
Summit of the Self
One day, I will summit the mountain of my own mind Rocky and daunting as the trail may be How many times has the pickaxe of a thought struck gold in a vulnerable vein – the sheer cliff face crumbling away beneath my clenched fists filled with loose gravel? Or the crevasse of a memory opened up without warning, threatening to swallow me whole? I have been buried beneath avalanche after avalanche of anxiety, lost my footing just as the peak came into view through early-morning mist As many failed attempts as it takes, I will keep climbing toward the pinnacle of my potential where all the fears and doubts that towered over me once will seem microscopic from such a staggering height. – mrg
sweetmint-poet
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May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 8:16 PM UTC
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