Fear sits in a chair across from me
Eyes peering through my skull
I wonder what he is looking for
My body tenses
A spark of tingling is lit at the tip of my toes
It climbs
Clawing at my ribcage, gripping my throat
Flooding my mind
As I try and convince myself that the wars in my head
are crafted from divine reason
My body tenses more
Fear, still staring, smiles
Because he's found what he's looking for
A face of boy, sitting there in the vacancy of my brain
And I would have cried
But I've learned that there is no use in getting your face wet
Over a silly, inconsistent boy