twist and cry a kiss on your molten eyes

I am Janice's seething anger boiling up to choke her, bile and black. I am knots of stress spreading through her shoulders and neck. I am molten tears stinging her eyes and making them burn like charcoal briquetts. I am a heavy sense of hopelessness pressing on her lungs with such strength she thinks her sternum may crack. I am dark despair winning the battle against determination.I sited my goals. I kept my eye on them. I kept climbing towards them even when tired, out of breath, and financially strapped. Then, between the car wreck, the dismissed divorce case, the less than excellent school work and the maxed out credit I looked down to find that the staircase I had been laboriously scaling was actually the down escalator. I can see rock bottom again. It's jagged and craggy. Suddenly, I can't breath.