Cold Feet

I often have no idea what to say,

But SOMETHING is needed

I think of all the emptiness and words in my way,

My cold feet,

My cloudy mind and heavy head

I act as a receptical,

A dictograph, without hearing

With a handle on a single phrase

Unfurled

Bit by bit

Is a message,

a light

Or a relief

And my compass of a mind

Can now rest

Published by sickybeat

I am a writer with an extremely active imagination. I love learning answers to questions and what makes everything and everyone tick. I am a "Unique case, medically" if nothing else. I am flawed in my extreme aversion to failure (even when "success" isn't good for me,) but have come a long way in ditching the perfectionist mindset. I like people whose default setting toward others is compassion, an open mind, and honesty

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