A heavy, gooping, clinging, gnashing thing. I name you.

Doubt.

Naming you releases me from your grasp, but only just. You are the unquenchable, undesirable, uninvited guest at every small crossroads in my life. You disgust me. You are the dreaded ‘what if’ ghost in my dreams, the demanding recinder of my decisions. How deep must I search to find the roots you have planted?

Your stench reeks if mg mistakes but with a touch of something more. And it is this something more that holds me, hypnotized.

I research for the poison, the cure, that works less than half of the time and say, “I have decided.”

At least for today.