I am walking on thin ice. I have so much weight on my shoulders, that I’m afraid to fall through. So much heaviness, no, not in my shoulders, but in my chest. Some, stacked neatly. But most, buried inside the remoteness of what I know, and what I feel. There are things, that are screaming inside of me. Echoing to and from what is the brink of my being, my self. There are demons inside of me, disguised as self love, telling me to give in and just let go of the things that matter. The things that are supposed to be good for me. Tell me, my friend, whisper in my ear and tell me that things that I want to hear.