Perfect Shot :P

There is black ice in my mind, patches of dangerous coldness that catch me off guard and send my mind spinning out of control. Those mysterious triggers that send me skidding into the downward spiral I've come to know so well. They sweep me off my feet and leave me crumpled in a sodden heap, a little more bruised, a little more hesitant, a little colder than when I started.

I cannot avoid the black ice. I can only pad my heart for the fall. I look ridiculous, outfitted with my hockey helmet, my kneepads, my elbow pads, but I've broken too many bones already.

Done