Fear

Fear.
Like a slave to his master, I’ve been shackled and handicapped by you for as long as I can remember.
Afraid to speak up.
Scared to act out and let the full extent of my being emerge in your presence.
Petrified of the repercussions that would arise by going against the perceived standard.

Fear.
As years of boyhood fleeted away in your midst, I gave into your societal pressures.
Leaving unspoken words on the table and igniting a bevy of later conversations with myself about what I should have or could have said in the moment.

Fear.
The regret of your impact lingers over my decisions like cologne in a crowded room.
Stripping me of my freedom.
Trapping me inside a cocoon that I desperately want to escape, but I’m suffocating.

Fear.
My heart and soul say I’m finally ready to take you on.
As the lies told to avoid hidden truths surface, the potential reality of friendships and love ones lost set in.
Slowly, you creep in and fill that place of solace with doubt.
So, in the end, I guess fear wins again.