a rose by any other name would smell as sweet- romeo and juliet

some describe it as a hollowness, something missing if you will. i feel it gnawing at my stomach, my ribs, the edges of my heart. i feel it nibble at my fingers and demand my attention. look at me. i will not indulge you, i say. firmly. with resolve. twitchy trembling vulnerability, but i take to what is in front of me with renewed vigor and attention. steep yourself into the world of flying words and equations and let the whirl of their voices envelope you. i love you, you are beautiful. for you will speak to me from the page and fill me with wisdom and then i will be wise.

some days you stand on the edge of the precipice and look far beyond. look at the bright skies that beckon, look at alluring days that promise you sunshine and rainbows and butterflies. look at what lurks below, murky depths pooled around skeletons of those that had tried in vain. you stand on the edge of the precipice alone and only your strength can stop you now.