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by Scarlett Catanzaro

I started somewhere,

looking ahead with blurry vision and sweaty palms

The steps forward seemingly impossible

The past taunting

A sick, oily feeling of fear sets in

Still, I continued to move forward

now far from where I started but still not where I want to be

The fear is growing 

Anxiety beckons me to give in

Steps forward become steps backward 

The start no longer a start but now a midpoint 

Where am I going?

What am I doing?

  heart racing

  head exploding 

  world spinning 

  time fleeting 

The end point still so far away 

What’s the point?

Why continue moving forward when all I can seem to do is go backwards?

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