Afraid

Afraid

Amanda Sanchez

Sereen Abdallatif, Phoenix writer

I don’t know about you,

But something that keeps me up,

On the darkest of nights–

Is my constant, eternal fear.

A fear that isn’t physical,

Like spiders or clowns;

It’s something so dark, so sinister.

The chill of it all running down my spine.  

 

Never have I thought I would have to change myself,

In order to coexist with the ones that couldn’t handle me.

I was being real.

But the vision blurred and the words struck me once more.

You’re going to end up–

A L O N E.

 

Without the validating reassurance,

Of them knowing that, yes

I still exist,

My soul begins to shrink half its size.

Open your eyes, I am right in front of you.

So why is your attention somewhere else?

 

I’m in hysterics again.

The feeling burns like the liquid pouring through my veins,

As the days and nights pass from under me–

I don’t know if I’ll meet with you again.

When the moon settles in the east,

I curl in on myself once more.

 

Salty tears burn and prick at my eyelids,

They beg me to let them fall.

But I will not let them, I refuse to accept my fate.

My hands ache, from the clench I did not know I held onto.

Never trust, never love, never tell.

Never ever show them your true face.

 

Once that facade falls,

And your true colors shine through–

They’ll take it into their palms,

And crush it down to it’s core.

 

To where my core lies,

Is my deepest, everlasting fear.

A constant battle of;

Don’t leave me– Let me go.

Can’t you hear these cries?

I don’t want to be alone.

 

But the silence is no foreigner to me anymore,

The mist that surrounds me has nestled deep into my pores.

Could this be a breath of fresh air?

A vixen, her suffocatingly sweet voice makes my mind feel hazy,

Maybe I am better off by myself after all.

Sereen Abdallatif