My intuition is my ambition.

My ammunition.

My superstition.

My life and feelings and emotions.

It makes me go to the universe and listen.

It keeps me sharp and cool and driven.

It keeps me fearing pain and prison.

It leeds me to nights crying in my room, thinking that soon will come my doom.

And days where it leaves my heart and arms open and full of room.

And mornings of peace and quiet and lonely warmth.

And afternoons of laughter stress and hectic swarm.

It says if I should hold something in my heart or let it go.

It whispers wise words of yes or no.

But a revelation, a realization hit me so hard I couldn’t breathe.

If my intuition, and faith of the universe ceased,would I be a walking living talking emotionless beast, or would the lack of life send me crashing to my knees?