i am afraid.
fear buzzes in my head like a plane perpetually circling the runway
promising to take off to faraway places.
fear whispers in my ears:
where would you live, my dear?
how would you live, my dear?
what would your children feel?
what would they think of you?
how would their lives turn out?
are you ready, my dear?
fear whispers in my ears.
i sleep awake.
awake i sleep.
i dream of lions chasing me
i dream of eagles chasing me
i dream of fires chasing me…
spirits talk to me as i lay half awake
names of people and things
locations, coordinates, maps of places I’ve never been
i write them down in shaky hands
trying to memorize faces painted in dripping ink
as if it has just rained on them
smudges lost in my crumbling imagination.
every person i meet is a messenger
a number on a wall
a peeking sign from a deck of cards
a bold scripture in a passage of microscopic words.
what will you do without this pain?
what will you do with your spare energy?
what will you do without regret?
without resentment and hate?
what will you do? fear asks.
i do not know
my road is not certain.
i wade between euphoria and delirium.
a small cozy home with a yellow door
laughter, incense smoke, beaded curtains, christmas lights
goddess statues, mother mary, crystals and candles
an altar of victory
children, mud, puppies, unborn distant dreams
the rustle of papers as old pages turn
and sweet imperfection.
fear does not talk me out of my rumblings
she sits silently at the side of my bed
looking at me with an all knowing smirk
as if saying
what the hell are you waiting for then?
i am afraid
of losing this battle
of i told you so’s and cruel revenge.
things i cannot control
confrontations, public struggles, unfair judgement, bone-breaking hateful words.
standing out, standing down
heart-ache, depression, fast-speed fall into dark spirals of never ending depth.
and growing a tumor in my gut.
in the rare quietness of my soul-
i hear fear whispering-
you have time.
you have all the time in the world.
and if you stop all this nonsense, you will see
you have arrived, my dear.
i struggle to grasp what this could mean,
as i do with every sign,
with every unicorn that was thrown at me
like i have always known.
©Tsion B., 2016