The Demon of Certainty

Where control dissolves, the thread begins to glow.

THE WILD WHISPER BENEATH MY SKIN

I first tasted God in the spaces between breaths - when I stopped clawing at the river and let it carry me. There’s a wildness humming in surrender, a truth that only blooms when you unclench your fists. For years, I mistook control for strength. I starved, I schemed, I carved my body into a monument of not enough. I thou…