A Leap of Faith

Of solitude and surviving, both I do well. If it weren't for the depression I'd be fairly normal. Instead I see the scars, like deep crevices -- on the mind, body and heart. They run deep and wide. Some days I feel a bit like Evel Knievel -- only not as old as old Bob -- donning a helmet and crash suit. Confident I can make the great leap from one side to the other. So I take a deep breath and jump. And like Evel, I find myself on the ground... crashing and burning. Minor scars chalked up to trying. One day hoping to succeed and walk away, arms rised in a "V." Unscathed and happy.