LUMBERJACK

                                       The mind wields an ax...~

               Its sharp edge, gleaming, edge the product of unspoken,     

                                       self-doubting, delusions. 

      Baring it with lean, worn, muscles, consciousness continues hacking at the figment that once bore this condemnation before my waivering hands took up this task.

 Each thud echos again as the pain is wedged further into my own core...

      Each sliver is a piece of the person I wish; no, wished to be. Flying from the force of impact. Falling forever away from me. 

     The steady thumps marking slow, sure, progress further made... 

      My silent criticism chopping jaggedly through me oh, but, still cutting me down fully!

             A negative mind at war sends this lumberjack harvesting her own                                                                  dead aspirations.

         Wanting to be able to scream once! To be given a chance to seek hope!