These paracausal forces that keep us all together, I feel them call my name, but I can't help but wonder...why?

I'm becoming frightened again easily.
and it keeps happening within my unconcious self.

Night-terrors w/ demons drenched in opaquenes, I squirm at the thought of them grabbing me alive this next time.
Manifesting my curses with these feeble bare hands, just hoping to withstand the fall, I can't take this anymore.

I think, and I think some more.

And that's all I ever do...is think.

Outrunning the undertow, you can try...sure, you can try.
But it will take you, and take every last strength in those muscles of yours you use to stay afloat.
It will pull you down,
it will curl those fibered tendons.
The one's that are so strong, the ones you've always used to stay...afloat.
Those will falter too, much like the strength keeping your head above the surface tension. Bobbing in, and then out.

Now you know the struggle of fate.

And the ideal in, there's no running, let alone swimming.
Out of it.