Dear Fear

A poem for my greatest fears

the trees near my house photographed at night

---

Dear Fear,

For as long as I have known my name

you have been the jagged whisper

caught beneath my breath

You were never a guest

you were a second skin

stitched so tightly to my ribs

that I forgot where my pulse stopped

and your tremors began

You are the brittle edge of my laughter

A commander in my blood

ordering my cells

to treat this body like a battlefield

---

I hated the way you tasted

Bitter medicine and cold air

Yet, I clung to you

in crowded rooms

when the world was careless

You were consistent

When others departed like ghosts

or struck like lightning

You were the one

holding my hand in the dark

You stayed when the seats were empty

---

You stayed with me

in the liminal spaces

Never quite enough of this

always far too much of that

In-between

Tangential

You taught me politeness

Be a helpful shadow

leave no trace

---

You taught the art of partial truths

just enough to stay in control

You were my perimeter

A barbed-wire lace

of almost honesty

that shielded like a veil

I was terrified of being seen

so I remained neutral territory

Unincorporated

Keeping everyone else safe

from the mess of me

locked in your cold embrace

---

Never wishing myself harm

But never wishing myself well

---

You were the only emotion

that felt honest in the end

Joy felt borrowed

Peace, a debt I couldn’t pay

but you

You felt like mine

You were a shapeshifter

a thief of faces

You wore my mother’s eyes

the angry brow of my stepfather

Every person in my life

You flitted between their features

just to remind me

I am the only one who stays

---

I thought it was bravery

to carry you across the years

That my strength was a calculation

measured in the weight

I could shoulder

without my knees hitting the dirt

When Death came knocking

Again, again, again, again

it sounded like familiar language

A reminder that losing was the only thing

I was ever meant to be good at

---

I see the scars of entanglement now

how our roots have fused

You, a vine wrapped so tightly

that to pull away

would be mutual destruction

And that’s okay

Scars are maps of where we’ve been

It is not failure

to speak without you in my ear

Or weakness

to admit I cannot save the world

with sacrifice

---

There is no grand plan to appease

only breaking patterns

healing without audience

You do not have to leave,

But you must be still

Hush

I am tucking in the child

who shook in the silent places

who learned to hide

To stay small

She can finally breathe

The air is hers now

Ours

---

You can stay, Fear

but you will no longer lead

Surrender is not defeat

it is integration

a dismantled fence

that builds a bridge

the world is still careless

but it is enough

As I am

to carve out a space

that fits me

whole

---

Note: Another tough one for me to share, but I’m doing it anyway. Happy Friday the 13th! This is a poem in the form of a letter to fear as part of imi’s weekly archive prompt:

Write a letter to your greatest fear. How much of that fear is tied to your need to remain powerful? How much of it comes from the desperation to hold on to control? What might have happened if you had looked fear in the eye and accepted defeat?

Thanks for being here.

Until next time,

j

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