Fretless

Doubt slithers up your spine and salivates down your skull.
Its thick drool eats away your flesh like acidic sap.
You can't prove it exists, but it's there; sulking in the shadow.
Poking its head out for the briefest moment, all the while maintaining its taloned grip.
Its whispers spawn splinters that lodge between the eye and the intangible.
Expelled like membranous egg sacs, they incubate in uncertainty.
And when your will is soft and moist, they hatch.
Discharging their embryonic fluid, they scamper away from the light.
Their root-like tentacles search for a place to suckle, to drain, to weaken.
If ignored, each will grow to produce its own progeny.
An infestation with an alarmingly rapid development.
From thought to idea, from idea to doubt.
These cognitive pathogens have to be exterminated.
They are as real as they are impalpable, and they bleed out as quickly as they evolve.
Snuff 'em.



Photo by Josh Thomas @ http://www.flickr.com/photos/abracadaverr/