The cake,
delivered.
Her dress,
she’s putting on now.
The crowd,
they’re waiting.

Voices always speaking.
Words embodying anxiety.

Killing
Every
Little
Thought.

STOP!

….Too much.
Heart is racing faster than thought possible.

“This is what you’ve wanted,” she’d say.

“This is what I’ve had to want,” he’d say.

“But all those people…” she’d begin.

“…controlling our lives,” he’d end.

“You love me?” Tears upon her cheeks.

“I don’t know.”

Then things would really be done.

Voices fade back in.
The caterer.
The planner.

Deep breaths.
Just deep breaths.
“You can go through with this,” he tells himself.

Over.

And over.