I just wish for a second I had all the answers. Even if in that second I only captured one or two answers to memory. Just for a second to not feel confused about which step should come first, that 'one' or the one I'm about to take. Just one simple, small second that feels like a minute or an hour. In that second I might be able tobreathe, might be able to see a small glimpse or a sliver of insight, and not be so afraid of the unknown. The second passes, I don't receive the answers, only more questions, and I still can't breathe. I'm also still afraid of the unknown. The dark places in time, where thoughts and fear entwine is where I lie. Until the next second passes, and the next after that, until a minute becomes an hour, and hours become days without change. The whispers get louder, their are so many, pulling me back and forth and hard to focus on just the one. No need for time as they don't exist for them. For me, time is all I see. Too little time, running out of time... never enough time. And yet, in all that time... I never get my second with all the answers. Time, the peculiar thing that it is... never stops, never goes back... just continues to tick and to tock. Within time I will have even one answer, maybe two, just possibly three or very well none at all. Within time the whispers will become a voice I can rely on. The voice will become it's own maker of time, another cycle of unknown. Another second I fear and embrace because it's my own. With or without answers, this voice belongs to me, and it should not be feared but cherished. So I will try... try to embrace the time I'm surrounded with all of the whispers. I will to try to not fear the unknown or focus on the unanswered questions. I will try to not let my demons scare me off, even if time after time I do let them. This time will be different. This time, I will not count the seconds I'm lost, or the hours I feel like I can't breathe. This time I will just let the whispers find their voice, and the voice will find me.
© Copyright 2013 by Andrea Michelle