Monday, July 12, 2010

Southern Blow

I stumble to my feet. I can feel the unnatural sway of the room around me, the grit in my mouth and the blood on my tongue. I'm a survivor-no more, no less and for that I'm proud. But this blow, this pummel, this smack-has kept me down far longer than I would have thought and given fuel to the smokey whispers of defeat which swirl around me. The roaring in my ears is constant and as I shake my dizzied head, I can only guess as to which way to turn.