Image Credits: Jordan Brodie
hold my hand as I stumble down this narrow road
I should be a pillar of salt the way regret beckons and sings my name
the dance of a butterfly wings sends gusts of “what ifs” and “maybes”
the effects leave me shuddering in bed past twilight
future sunrises sway over head as if ready to swat a fly
an impending doom of what has yet to become and the bitter agony of what I wish it could be
here and now I find my mind has become an unreliable narrator
deciphering the “hello” and “how are you” from so many not quite strangers as puzzles pleading to be solved
but could it be an open hand waiting to be embraced
just maybe it holds the key destined to tear away the shackles I spent years weaving around my mind
a web so fragile that I scoff at any who dare tell me that they may know the way out
because what’s scarier than truly being set free
Jordan Brodie is a senior majoring in Marketing. JBrodie176@wcupa.edu.