When something terrible faces
me, I choose option
three
(the one cavemen never
thought existed):
freeze

yep, I am an inventor of the invisible
indecisive
slow-thinking
coward

The hardest thing to endure
is to be a Coward. My broken metal
wings resonate like angered antennas.
My soulful dirge drags painfully moaning
in the swamp that I call my courage.
There is a swollen whale
in the needle of my eyes.
Nobody but I can pacify
the whale out.

It is not as though,
I can't cry, but I could
all the time. My lame steps
stop short of breath, these desiccated
lungs are swallowed by smoke
by fire that isn't there.

I hide again for the enclosure
of my cave guides me back like
a false messiah.

As long as I am religious
to my sulking fear, then
I am continuing to collapse.

Build me again so I may begin to
deserve to be afraid.

"Do you save what's left or what you are afraid to lose?"

...maybe I should just throw it back to the ocean where it belongs.

"'Cowardice is the most terrible of vices.' Bulgakov wrote that. You should know."

…everybody's scared of something.

I don't have nearly enough bravery to look her straight in the eye, I've only ever had enough bravery to laugh at the memories that lie around each nook and cranny.
But the dark only grows darker in every twisted little rabbit hole, it's a quiet colorless feeling that makes everything so entirely pointless. The kind of feeling that makes you fear that there is nothing beyond death.