I feel stagnated like a pool,

A breeding ground for insects.

Over me something looms

And to it I can’t put any name

Except uncertainty.

And all I want is to tear this

Bone of youth from my body;

It itches incessantly under the skin,

It drives me mad at midnight

As I achingly wait for the dawn

But longingly cling to the night.

It screams, “Hurry, hurry!”

And tortures me for my delay.

But it’s because I’m still charting

A course that won’t crash.

It’s true,

I’ve grown weary of sideway shuffles,

Tired of backwards stumbles,

And I dream of forward steps.

But every time I try,

My foot hovers over the plunge

And I slip my blindfold on

To lose sight and wander away,

All the while that bone screams,

“Jump, jump!”

May Saint Jude protect me.