Flaw Salad

A thing you can’t explain creeps up your spine and around your neck and into your chest. It grabs you there, wraps tight around your heart and pulls outward. You are drawn forward, away. You want to follow. You want to leave behind everything in this moment and go anywhere unknown in the belief that maybe, just maybe, something better is out there. But you are stuck. You are stuck, you miserable coward, in your comfort and familiarity. You won’t move your feet. You stay. You sit and stay and rot there longing. You yearn and cry and stay. You deplorable wretch. What use have you for your feet? What use have you for your dreams? In the great, vast plains of possibility, what use have you for sight? Close your eyes, and silence your whimper. Die while your heart still beats. You are done here.