On the stairway to self-preservation.
An allotment of goods.
A brace, some pills…none with thrills.
All rainbow arrays of impediments.
Difficult to imagine a day not perfumed by my self imposed…handicaps.
With a suitcase of vertigo in hand.
I travel the stairs, everyday, often with dismay.
I daydream about what it is I am attempting to avoid.
But that only depresses me.
Provides an income, where I can become further annoyed.
I can hold to self-doubt and pretend it is not the germ ridden handrail…
that it is.
However, my ignorance may kill.
It also allows me to live.