My mother was fearless but she could not save me from myself

Even giants die a lonely death, falling into darkness, moving further from the sun. We all return to the core. All entropy moves in the same direction. All earthly things move into themselves.
Death is a process of falling in. The earth devours us all.
Even  as rock will eventually succumb to the licking tides, so must the ocean remain.
Endlessly inward.
Swallowing the giant and small alike.


**I wrote this in response to Miranda July's "Ten True Things." I don't know how to deal with my own depression and even though I always long for things to evoke something raw out of me, I am always scared of what poignant experiences will illicit. I will never be free from fear.