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This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.
One, two, three, four-I can never quite get to five. The highway is a frightening place to face my fears or to test if I even have any fears. The fact that I can never get past four seconds lets me know that I still care about my own life. The feeling of closing my eyes for those four seconds, I experience it all. I live my whole life in every second that goes by. It passes by like the cars that I speed past, with confused and concerned faces. So instead of counting past four, I write about what it feels like to sum up my life in just a couple seconds, or in this case, a couple poems that allow me to refuse those urges that I am still fighting: the demons of depression and anxiety that tightly grab a hold of me.
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This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.
One, two, three, four-I can never quite get to five. The highway is a frightening place to face my fears or to test if I even have any fears. The fact that I can never get past four seconds lets me know that I still care about my own life. The feeling of closing my eyes for those four seconds, I experience it all. I live my whole life in every second that goes by. It passes by like the cars that I speed past, with confused and concerned faces. So instead of counting past four, I write about what it feels like to sum up my life in just a couple seconds, or in this case, a couple poems that allow me to refuse those urges that I am still fighting: the demons of depression and anxiety that tightly grab a hold of me.