"It's fine. You're fine. I love you."

Words that echo through you head twisting and tumbling unsteadily.

A peculiar phrase for one to hold such importance.

These words repeated in a mantra

Bringing upon an unsettling twinge of motion with every repetition.

Comfort--the goal, yet something more powerful misguides these words on a destructive path.

Doubt--these words are a mere tool to manipulate the mind to believing what just happened had no impact, when in reality, had more impact than a train bashing full speed into a smart car.

Self-doubt--the swirling uncertainty leads you to question your own sanity, mentally pulling yourself away from the wreckage to assess the damage.

Minimal--dents and scratches noticeable but not fatal.

Over thinking--the only certainty.

"It's fine. You're fine. I love you."

The comfort apparent only momentarily.

The warmth of the situation paralyzes you, creating a road block for the doubt traveling full speed.

Enclosed in hope and certainty, the tension ceases.

Reality alters into a light fantasy, filled will reassurance and closure.

Floating weightless until you are isolated.

Doubt dwells in the minds of those who reman isolated, trapped in thought.

I love you--words that hold such meaning given the proper delivery.

"I must be interpreting it wrong.", "It doesn't mean anything.", "It's a lie."

Doubt shakes the soul, stomach becomes unsettled,

A sorrow instituted by oneself.

"It's fine. You're fine. I love you."

Self-doubt, weakening the mind resulting in distress.

Bringing oneself to an over dramtic puddle of maybe I'm wrong's.

The fine aspect begins slipping away.

Barricading oneself, blankets wrapping forming a cave of seclusion.

Escaping all that surrounds you, apart from your thoughts.

Stretching out of the cave, you assess the situation.

Minimal damage apparent, the mantra providing the intended comfort.

Embarassed yet reassured, accepting the truth, the hardest part.

The phrase slowly validated, the mind settles.

Temporarily bruised but ready to recover.

"It's fine. You're fine. I love you."

Over-thinking has subsided, settling into the dust.

Certainty may never be known but the brutal thoughts are undeniably real.

The thoughts more violent than the experience itself.

Whirling cycles of doubt and self-despair level off, smoothing on the surface.

Beneath--rough yet repairable.

Mantra repeating sending the mind through the same cycle.

Clinging to these words--words that provide a warmth that rescues you from yourself.

The phrase--your safety blanket--you hold dear to you.

Motions rising and subsiding like the rough tides of the ocean.

But you wouldn't have it any other way, floating away in reverie with every

"It's fine. You're fine. I love you"