Imagine.
Your gift, your craft, your love,
seeping.
Your fingers become a sanguine
fountain, bubbling and oozing down the drain.
Like your dreams.
Like your craft
The shadows of fear and anxiety wrap around you.
Your paranoia hazing your vision.
Your thoughts becoming drums in your mind
and you feel numb.
Empty.
And you fall on the floor,
your gift in your hand
your fingers are extant
but they feel like nothing but phantoms.
It is then that you know the value of life.
The unpredictability is
the
Grim Reaper...
Unpredictability was nearly the
death of this author.
I know I've been away from this page. I apologise. A lot of things have transpired...but I'm back with a bang! This is based on an incident that happened to me recently. I cut my finger to the bone and man, I didn't think one could bleed so much from it. I lost so much blood that I nearly passed out and this cut rendered my writing hand useless...for a time. I was so scared. I don't know what I'd didn't have it anymore...
Please, be grateful for what you can do. Life's unpredictability can be terrifying but be grateful. I am able to write again after a few weeks of being not feeling my hand. I always remember that there is someone out there in a worse position than I am. I still have my hands, I still have my fingers. Someone out there would **** to be in the same position as me.
I'll always remember...
