Sleep evades me most nights
and consumes my days like wildfire.
The constant lump in my throat
is easier to endure,
in the privacy of home,
at night, alone.
The sun to me is like a spotlight,
revealing my most intimate secrets
to the world against my will.
So I struggle to conform to society’s
expectations of me,
as my hands sizzle and bleed
from this treacherous tug of war.
I need to get out of this house
but cannot find the courage to leave.
FEAR is the invisible force that binds me.
It works as kryptonite against my loved ones.
FEAR keeps them at bay
giving me room to lick my wounds
and swim in the frigid lake of self pity alone.
FEAR itself is equally successful at
having this affect on my hopes and dreams.
It’s smoldering breath whispers in my ear
with a vengeance
confirming that I will never be enough.
It confirms that I will never be tall enough.
It confirms that I will never be short enough.
FEAR confirms that I will never be
skinny enough, or fat enough,
white enough, or black enough.
To FEAR I am nothing at all.
For a moment I fall to my knees
submitting to FEAR’S ridiculous claim.
As I wretch and whimper at FEAR’S feet
I struggle between my desire to curl
up in it’s embrace and slumber,
and my instinct to grab fear by the ankles
propelling it against the wall with insane force.
I imagine fear exploding into a
million messy pieces
as it’s life source oozes
slowly down the wall.
And for some reason this time
conquering fear,
is more appealing to me
than succumbing to it’s lies.
My head raises slowly to meet fear’s gaze,
and for a moment I sense that fear
is oblivious to it’s fate.
fear smiles at me triumphantly
and strokes my head
in it’s false attempt to
provide me with a sense of comfort.
manipulation is fear’s middle name.
I conjure the ability to offer a meek smile
ensuring that my attack comes as a swift surprise.
My body shakes with fury
as I try hard to maintain the pretense
of my intentions towards this old friend.
Tears of rage cascade down my face
as steam begins to rise from my cheeks.
Slowly, fear’s smile dissipates
into an expression of pure bewilderment,
as I clutch it’s ankles with the pressure
of rope around the neck of a condemned man.
A ferocious smile spreads across my face
like molasses over pancakes
as I prepare to win…
The Fight of My Life.
Copyright © 2009 cigale
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Comments
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Brilliant!
made me picture 'fear' and believe in the words. I felt every line as if it were real. So true, and very inspiring.
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