Life

Life.

It scratches at your skin and builds a rash upon reasoning. You watch it slide over your sanity, grip your neck and slowly squeeze the air out of your lungs. It is reckless; it leaves a mess.

It comes at you with force when you don’t expect it, like a tornado on a winter’s day. You cannot think when it hits, cannot speak, cannot explain why your heart has exhausted itself pumping out pain. It is a cooling breath across your face, freezing your senses and crippling you in a temporary trance. You are at its mercy. It will do what it pleases.

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You catch a sigh between your lips. It lingers, unsure whether to escape the bubbling build up inside or stay between your mouth, where air hovers and it cannot be exposed to what waits to wither it. You could make the choice but it is hard to think when oxygen drains from your brain.

So you face forward and press ahead into a stifling uncertainty. Life, after all, never promised to coax you out of your comfort zone. It simply agreed to peel apart your layers and examine the murky waters that have the potential to corrode or complete your courage.

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