Author’s Notes

OK, I wrote this while listening to Evanescence (I’m going under, drowning in you… *dances* Now if I could just stop getting Whisper stuck in my head…) after having a bad day. So this may turn out more… depressed than I mean it to. :P Do NOT take any of it seriously- like I said, I was just writing my thoughts as they came to me. And I’d had a bad day. Somehow I managed to convince myself I was having a heart attack just because there was a sore spot right below my left collarbone- more likely from lying on my side for too long than anything. ¬_¬

Considering that I don’t normally write poetry and that that I DO write usually sucks, I’m not sure why I wrote this. But hey. ^_^

Disclaimer (*forces the Evil Lawyers to listen to Britney Spears until they run away screaming*): Uh, this is ORIGINAL fiction. Poetry. Whatever. For once, I can say I don’t need a disclaimer… but it’s habit now. ^_^

Fear.

Out of all the emotions, the one I hate the most, the one I experience the most often…

Terrifying.

The tiniest thing becomes a monster I can’t escape,

Can’t erase, so I’m forced to run from it, always looking over my shoulder to see if it’s gone away.

Go away!

It’s strange. I can kill monsters, Heartless, evil fangirls…

In my mind.

In spirit.

In cold reality, I’m weak.

Slow, no stamina whatsoever.

Why?

I try and turn this around, but…

Am I destined to sit here, lazing around,

Letting my own health wither away because

I don’t exercise (why is that so hard to spell?) enough,

And I don’t eat right?

I’m always afraid something’s wrong with me…

When it isn’t.

Or is it?

I don’t want to die young.

And I’m too young to worry this much.

If I have to dwell on the little things,

Why can’t they be the good things too?

Help me…

Lost…

In my own mind…

My imagination… it’s a blessing.

And a curse.

I can picture the possibilities all too well…

Good.

And bad.

Especially bad.

However impossible.

And the bad things…

They reawaken old fears.

Create new ones.

Make it stop!

I want to live.

Not to die.

I want to laugh.

Not to scream.

Not to cry.

Why is it so hard?

These thoughts… in this form, they’re so…

Disturbed.

Don’t say I need mental help-

I already know that.

But the shrink asks too many questions,

And how are they supposed to help anyway?

I don’t need more medicine.

I just need safety.

In a perfect world,

There’d be no pain, no illness, no injury.

No fear.

Wouldn’t it be nice if a place like that existed?

I’d be free.

Happy.

Without this lingering fear.

Finally able to just relax

And enjoy my life.

Because life’s too short to live in fear-

As I do now.