Sitting under the cold lamplight I
can hear it whispering, a droning building howl, and though I know I will never
understand the words, I will always know what they mean. They are a curse. The
fear wraps around us, engulfing us with wind and flames, a storm we can feel
long before we can see it. A headache running thru every bone, mauling as it
moves. Barking at us rabid, letting us know that someday when we are almost
happy it will tear apart everything that we love and make us watch. A black fog
rolling over us, capturing all we hold dear, with a monstrous crackling
momentum, spitting and groping. We cannot outrun it, for if we go any faster we
will collapse, our hearts exploding in a small dull thud, our life trickling
out into the cold, the vastness. We cannot stop, for it will strangle us,
choking and crushing, with every breath we will breathe in its poisonous hand,
fingers in thru the nose and knuckles out thru the mouth. We can only move towards it, with it, no matter the pace or direction. The fear loathes us
and we deserve it. We know we have done wrong and that we can never go back.
The fear baits us, laying traps in all we desire. The fear knows us, using us
against ourselves. The fear is coming, almost here now, I can hear it
whispering beneath the cold cold lamplight. The haunting is here. The fear has
come again, each time getting closer to what it wants, each time leaving less
of us behind. Taking with it our hearts and hard work, leaving only stranded flesh and eyes to see the pieces. Never not present. We can go no further without it, we can live
no longer with it. We have become it. Becoming it, we begin to give it. A tired venomous gift. A
cancer. I am you fear. We are finally, eternally together. Always.
