The internal editor that sits
at a comfortable, safe distance
examines my work.
Today, his attacks are fortified
by those mercenary soldiers,
Depression and Anxiety.
And so, I can only write this.
A single bullet against an army.
Today, I may only have a single bullet.
Tomorrow, I'll have another.
Hordes are created when one joins another,
until, word by word, I have an army of my own.