By: Sarah Berg 

His pitch black cloak glides over the ground

He moves stealthy, gracefully, not making a sound

His red beady eyes gleam in the shadows

He is the step-brother of Death

He is Fear

Fear resides in a card board box in the dark crevices of my broken mind

The box is ratty and rumpled, held together only by Duck Tape and chains

Fear is always fighting

Fighting to get out of his cage

Breakout to poison my mind

Breakout and destroy the peace I have worked so hard to maintain

I always know when he is about to break free

His screeching grows louder, I can feel him clawing at the box’s inside

I try as hard as I can to keep my hold tight on the chains

But Fear does escape, he seeps through the cracks when my grip does slip

And then he is free

His stench fills my head, the smell of burnt flesh

It dances around my mind, attacking my senses

I try to stay strong, but he knows I am vulnerable

He knows my mind is cracking

He knows where my weak points are

He knows what makes me tick

Fear rushes toward the raw patches in my mind

And jabs them as hard as he possibly can

Fear is a person no longer

It is fire

Searing my mind

I can feel it burn through my veins

It begins to melt me from the inside out

Every memory from my childhood surges forward

Each one taking me back to a time I had forgotten

I could feel myself shutting down, my mind going limp

And when I come back to reality, Fear would be where he belonged

Back in his cage

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