Day to Day Poetry #45

I wonder what it’s like to be hopelessly,
desperately afraid,
to be told by all the adults around me at fourteen,
that I’m afraid –
incredibly, lugubriously afraid,
so fearful, my child, it had to be medicated –
as if these million dollar pills can quench this fear
and turn it into that mundane void, the in-between
of dysphoria and euphoria.

I wonder what it’s like to have fear
govern all my decisions,
for anxiety to immobilize my every ambition,
assassinate my every adventure,
to want endlessly to be loved and cared for
to dream the terror away,
to wake up in the middle of a silent night
to bury my face in a three-month old pillow,
to imagine other people into saviours
that rises me into action, declares me free from
my nightmare paralysis,
to reach out and beckon, to lay out an open invitation
despite the nagging, monstrous dread of rejection –

to cross that barrier, anyway –

only to realize,
inside empty, barren rooms,
that I can never take you,
wherever you want to go,
because I’m afraid,
so incredibly, lugubriously afraid,
a fear so tantamount, so real,
that it’s become a part of daily living,
it’s become all of who I am.


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