The Argument

The helplessness is a red raw baby. Wildly flailing arms. Mouth open in a perfect ‘O’. The scream pierces my eardrum. I draw a quick sharp breath. The panic is funneled up my neck. Now it is searing into my brain. I can’t see. I can’t speak. I can’t think. All I want is for everything to be right. I need security. I need peace. I need you to believe me. The vulnerability I have is etched across my chest. The destitution I feel carved into my face. Eyes wide with longing. Mouth tight in agony. Emotional agony. Anger even. I thought I felt some anger. A quivering flame glowing from the embers in my palm. Crushing violating accusations shot at me straight from the barrel of a gun. Impossible to dodge it takes every effort to defend. Your minions mislead you. It is not true. Distorted fabricated facts slithering like poison up your leg. They tighten around your waist, but they will aim for your neck. They will get you one day. And I will know I tried in all my hopeless disheartened glory.