Introspection (Page 10)

Library reading room. Empty wooden swivel chair at wooden library table with book open on the table. Glasses on top of book. Wooden bookcases with blurred bindings of colorful books behind table and chair. A steak knife lies on the floor nearby.

TW: Suicide

I feel my chest heave as I walk through the kitchen.
Heavy breath, warm and wet.
My pace deliberate, pronounced.

Cold steel grazes my neck, awakening memories.

[continue]. . .

A monochrome image of two Icelandic sheep standing face to face, one is black and the other white. The only color in the image is in the sheep's eyes—the black sheep's eyes are brown and the white sheep's are gold and green.

Those with whom we surround ourselves
tend to define our worth.
Sometimes it is through their words,
and other times by our own comparisons.
Each time we share a bit of ourselves
we give them more power,
for that is what trust is, power.
The power to lift up.
The power to crush.

[continue]. . .

A male arm, clothed in white, reaches out to point his index finger at you. The white-skinned hand has a plain, gold wedding ring on its ring finger.

Blame the speed limit for the ticket,
the intersection when it’s run,
and the law for the crime.

Blame the bullet for the war,
the knife for the cut,
and the stone for the corpse.

[continue]. . .

A woman in a light mauve dress sits on the side of a grass-covered mountain in Switzerland. At the base of the mountain is a clear, pale blue lake.

Inspired I write.
Tired I sleep.
Stressed I can’t.
Lonely I weep.

Enabled I do.
Afraid I don’t.
Excited I thrive.
Ordered I won’t.

[continue]. . .

A grey wolf peeks out from behind a birch tree.

Sometimes I feel like a sheep in wolves clothing.

In our formative years,
we all change certain aspects of our behavior
in order to better fit in with others.
We all compromise in different ways
so we can ease tension with those around us.
We give up parts of ourselves,
thinking it will make things easier.
It seldom does.

(640 words)

[continue]. . .

A garden of purple, pink, and white sweet pea flowers beside a trellis, with a single red rose blooming among them.

The beauty of a rose,
wrapped tight within the vines,
upon my trellis waiting,
just waiting for her time.

Bursting open, petals stretch
unto the light of day.
Exploding colors all around,
for Spring has come to stay.

[continue]. . .