I keep on spiraling again.

Veins palpitate, aching like the

Desire of an obsessive


Perpetuations of the future abyss,

Ceaseless paths and choices do so

Remind me of

The future. The years

Of uncertainty house themselves

Along my fingertips.

They furl my brow, yet

I keep on spiraling

Because I ­­­­am ready for new beginnings.

This poem is about: 


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