Dear Life,

Get out of my life. I don't like you; I’m scared of you. I'm not scared of death; I’m scared of life.  I can't look at myself in the mirror without getting goose bumps; I can’t water a plant without screaming. I don't know why I'm afraid of life, I just am.

But maybe it has something to do with my mother; she hated death, so I decided to revolt against her by hating life.

Another thing I should mention is that I don't like school, because most learning has something to do with living. In case you're wondering, I don't like writing, and I’m terrible at it. So don't expect any Shakespeare, coming from me.  “Why are you writing this?” you ask.  Well, I'll tell you.

It was about a year ago, that I started going to talk to this weird    psychiatrist that my mother wanted me to see. So we talked and we talked, and I was not having fun because I hated talking.  The psychiatrist said that I should write about my phobia, to get all my anger out. I thought,” what a bunch of nonsense,” but I did it. Here I am now writing to you. I ‘m afraid you’re never going to write back and that’s fine with me. But if you do, I’m afraid of what you’ll tell me, anyway.  I’m scared that you’ll call me a coward for being afraid of something   that I’ve lived with all these years.



Signed,

       Collin.



  Dear Collin,

I received your letter a while ago and I have been contemplating your phobia for 2 years. For what you wrote was powerful.



You’re not a coward and I won’t scold you. I have a phobia of death. Everyone has a phobia of something or other. Your phobia is not unusual but just so few people these days care to express themselves.  You’re one of the first people to have written to me.  You’re not a coward; you’re talking to your fear, something that takes lots of courage.



There is no reason to be afraid of me. Why are you afraid of me? I don’t think your mother is the real reason. I think you’re just too scared to go out in the real world and breathe the living air. You’re not afraid of life, you’re afraid of what is in life. You’re not afraid of me, you’re afraid of the lives I create and what is inside of them.

Your mother cares about you. She wants you to conquer your fear. You can do it, simply enjoy what’s around you, and don’t be afraid. Because, beneath your fear is hatred and you have no choice but to love.

You can do it , Collin, I know you can.



Signed,

Life

I let the glow of the headlights
and the glow in your eyes
guide us home.

Faint chords of an old rock song
drifting out the radio,
your breath
fogging the window

You, me,
a billion points of light
hanging above our tired heads.
And then you whispered quietly to me:

"These are the moments I remember."
The cream of your voice
Dragged me back from the clouds
and I turned to you.

"these are the moments I live for."
The slight furl of your lips
and the reflection of the moon in your eyes
hurled me back into my daydreams.

And then we were silent.
And the world felt right.

Glued in a sea of honey,
like a sugar thirsty fly
trapped and floating
throughout the negative
space our excess
of energy creates.

One,two,three
I'll make a sketch
And I'll let you see

Four,five,six
If you dance with me
I'll make you move your hips

Seven,eight,nine
I'll be happy
To make you mine

There is a single pile of wires cluttering my living space.
It grabs onto my feet, and threatens to trip me.
Everyday I shake my innocent feet free.

Sometimes, it gets wrapped around my feet,
and tangled in my toes.
I pull, and push it out of the way.

It's a Friday when the pile grows exponentially.
I attempt to walk over it,
like I had done so many times before,
but it doesn't let me.

It slithers up my legs and tugs,
and tugs,
and tugs.

I fight its grip with all my might,
looking for leverage on the walls, and the table.
but I could not find a thing to keep me stable.

It yanks me down.
I land face first onto to floor.
It snakes around my wrists, and pulls me into itself.

I push it away from my face, but it comes back stronger.
It wraps itself around my neck.
I will never be free.