I don’t think I’ve felt complete in years. All there. Like something gnawing at my brain — chewing on it. A hamster or a rat just munching away bit by torturous bit. Like watching a horror movie where everyone dies at the end — you know — but you have to watch them die one by one. Or that moment on a beach when you see the water pull out for a couple kilometers out and it dawns on you — you’re impending doom has found you. Gnawing. Selfishly away. Over time the little cretin becomes more confident and begins to take bigger bites no longer feeling the need to hide or play subtle because it has you. It has you. It knows it. You know it. I know it. Found a tree where the cretin doesn’t seem to be able to reach. The rodent doesn’t like plans or heights. Especially plans made at a height above its misery. Some would say rope a dope. Dodge some more punches. Its got you up against the ropes so use the rope for momentum to deliver a straight right to Death’s jaw. I’ll use the rope for momentum alright. This. This is a rope to cope but not for hope. Nope. The tree gave me an approving nod when we settled our agreement eye to eye. The knots of the wood wouldn’t whisper not to which was a surprising comfort. An outstretched branch almost chose me as it looked down upon my mental rodent with disdain. It knew my pain. So. It continues. Gnawing. Biting. Chewing violently. Yes, God, lead me not into temptation and deliver me from this unwelcome visitor. Guide me to my rope to cope.