ADDICTED TO MOUNTAINTOPS

The feeling of exhilaration.

Highs that deliver.

Feening connection to something.

Anything.

>>>>>

Invisibility perpetually looming.

Spiraling in loneliness.

Emptiness partnered alongside excruciating confinement.

Incomplete- a weight and word endured each moment the heights outmaneuver me.

>>>>>

Balm, a ridiculously audacious figment from way back when.

The ruinous need to keep both hope and grief at bay.

Wishing the fickle pair could be typecast for more security.

An adrenalized rush- prerequisite for the trembling anxiety to cease.

For vulnerability to fain protection.

Because expectation is notorious for inconstant byproducts.

>>>>>

Lest brokenness breaks free uninhibited.

Exposing gaping wounds, and scars festered, both physical and psychological.

While anticipation's slow fade pendulums to a hopeless' vibrato.

And unapologetically, with its ten extremities clinching, time lingers around all sides of this neck.

This body, nearly lifeless and willingly surrendered.

>>>>>

Unwittingly, my ebbing focus now derailed by time's upward anchored eye.

Immediately disoriented.

Stealing unintended heavenward glances with unpermissioned confidence.

Zion's concoction once again evaded.