I Will Walk Heavy, And I Will

Anger Is One Way To Respond To Fear. I Say One Way Because Responses Are Categorically Multiple.

Absolutely Nothing Visible To The Eye Provides A Reason For Or Even Evidence Of Those Terrifying Shifts Which Can In A Matter Of Moments Reconstitute A Simple Path Into An Extremely Complicated One.

The Thread Has Snapped. No Sound Even To Mark The Breaking Let Alone The Fall. That Long Anticipated Disintegration, When The Darkest Angel Of All, The Horror Beyond All Horrors, Sits At Last Upon My Chest, Permanently Enfolding Me In Its Great Covering Wings, Black As Ink, Veined In Bees' Purple. A Creature Without A Voice. A Voice Without A Name. As Immortal As My Life. Come Here At Long Last To Summon The Wind.

I Must Read. I Must Read. I Must Read.

So Often I Wonder Whether It Is My Right To Capitalize, As I Feel, So Often, On The Grief Of Others. But Then I Justify, In My Own Particular Thoughts, By Feeling That I Can Contribute A Little To The Understanding Of What Others Are Going Through; Then There Is Reason For Doing It.