…on some days, sounds like clarions. Loud and clear. It makes you jump out of your skin without you realising. On some days, it gushes through you like a volcano, spilling angry tears, unintended curses and disenchanted emotions.
It sometimes catches you off guard and transforms you into a chameleon, forcing you to switch between identities you never knew you could be.
It sometimes walks into your living room like an unwelcome guest that crosses all boundaries. And sits pretty on your epidermis spewing venom into your veins and arteries.
It hides behind excuses and empty promises. Beneath pale skin and a flurry of nerves. Between trembling hands and fumbling fingers. In nightmares and lost sleep. Behind the bags under your eyes and umpteen mugs of coffee.
It demands your attention, it demands disquiet. It loves to feed on the chaos and the constant bedlam.
It swoops in every time you buckle down, every time you give up, every time you step back, and lurks around stealthily, for as long as it can – until it breaks your resilience. Until you admit to your miseries, to your anxiety, to your sorrows. Until you lay bare your thoughts, your flaws, your soul.