There are things, now, which I know. Things which once were unknown, empty spaces opening beneath me. They made me wake up in full vertigo, huddled in fear and false beliefs. But now I know. I know, and I know it is OK, and will be OK, and grace will come like rain.
Still, though, fears persist.
I can feel the little terror, turning in my window-less room.
I continue to come up with metaphores of falling. I'm always more than half convinced I'm failing.