Fear is starting to take over again. Moments of swearing I’ll never feel okay greet me in the morning. I’m sad and unkept and shaking. When your mind starts moving backwards again, how do you bring it back to life? I’m tempting myself into leaving a town that wasn’t always graceful. The corners of my mind cut deep. They bury the overwhelming sense of loss and responsibility and doubt and confusion and pressure. God, take the pressure off me. I know I asked for it with open palms long ago, but my bones ache. An act of mercy. My muscles can’t support this frame and if the foundation is shit, please tell me, where do I hold the rest? Growing pains. Growing pains. Growing pains. I’m the hook that hangs against the front entryway. Everyone puts their weight on me before entering. Their keys, bags, coats, umbrellas, worries, ideas, complaints, secrets, lies, truths, needs, fears. I hold everything for everyone before they take a step inside. I am the hook that anchors the house and its crumbling interior. I am the hook that’s drilled into the studs and I won’t budge for anything. I am the hook that wears around the edges, sharp enough to sting, but never draw blood- my paint is chipped and I’m worn down, yet sturdy. I am the hook of the storyline that has the power to change the entire fucking plot. I am the hook. -AMT ©️