I lay comfortably with my eyes shut, yet sleep never comes.

Dreams of misguided wrongs keep me awake. Do my actions speak louder than my intentions? I’m forever tortured, unable to rest without closure.

How does one guide a wrong?

Is it even possible?

Or is that the very nature of an accident, to be misled beyond correction?...

Ice fangs enclose the narrow opening. I stand at the tongue and lose my eyes in the dark. To enter is to be swallowed. I shall not enter, for fear of never being spit out....