SOUL MUD: Random Ramblings of my 24/7 Brain

THE FRINGES - by Autumn Boyet Stinton   Along the fringes of my mind,                pictures come and go. I wonder of their origin,                and question what I know. As if through a pane of misty water,               my focus is all but clear.   Images fading in and out,                happiness, anxiety, serenity and fear. My imagination and experience,                take on the leading role. Dark and dim, vivid and bright,                conjured up within my soul.   The line is blurred or missing,                 and I find it hard to see, I cannot say for certain,                  truth, counterfeit or reality?   But I am not bothered anyway,                I find no fear or pain. They come almost into focus,                yet drift before clarity I gain. No focus or desired fate,                will change what I can not clearly see. And no matter the effort I expend,                I cannot alter what will be.   The

I can see myself as though from a position above – a watcher, who can not only see the breadth and ferocity of my situation, but too, the depth of raw emotion that clouds me from my own ability to see.   I am lost in my vision of even myself.   I am crushed by a pressing weight of angst as it spreads through my chest causing pins and needles to crawl and twist up my neck thus creating the desperate need for me to gasp for air – pulling it in over the hot coals that reside in my chest.     I struggle as though breathing through sand, but I drag in a raged breath.   I gasp and draw not enough air – only enough to sustain life; only enough to feel the agony of my breath as it catches on the sharp edges protruding from my heart.   Each snag makes my soul cry out in despair.   But there is no stopping the pain, for it is also coursing through my blood – a river of molten desperation, restricted in flow and building pressure.   My closed eyes bulge at the thin layer of lid that keeps