Utterly consuming, weaving around my body like a snake. Spiraling and spiraling until there's nothing left of me. You need to leave. You need to get away. Get away. Get away. It makes my stomach drop. "Why is this happening to me?" I ask, to whom I do not know... "I was never like this before. I could challenge the world if I wanted to. So... answer me... why? Why is this happening to me?" And yet... no matter how many times I asked, the thing would not answer. I wondered if I was dying, perhaps that was the reason why all I could feel within my body was an all-consuming feeling of dread and fear. At this point, I was begging the thing for an answer to no avail. I was hopeless, I wanted to do what I could do before. I wanted to explore, to look beyond the world, beyond the stars. But this ****** fear stopped me from doing any of that. The thing patted my head and asked me a question, "Do you think your fear is unreasonable? That it is there for no reason?" It smiled briefly before saying, "You should be grateful, for I may save your life one day."

Waiting for life
Is to wait for death.
You will have time.
But you never know
Which will be your last breath

my every move captured  
the little fiends are note-taking
       squirrels on the fence
watch me put up battlements
surrounding our thriving tomato plants
                                              Good Luck !

I’m not afraid of heights, but of the fall.
I’m not afraid of addiction, but of the withdrawals.
I wish I could stop these circling thoughts,
But they keep on spinning.
I’m not afraid of imperfection, but of failure,
Miserably luring me,
To an askew belief.
If I fail once, was I a failure all along?
Can I do anything right?
Just add it to the tally,
Ever growing.
Another note to my somber song.
I’m not afraid to die, but of saying goodbye.
These thoughts, while dark sometimes,
I’d give everything to think of them one last time.
These fears remind me that I’m alive.
I’m not afraid of people, but of being judged.
Anxiety plunging me,
Into fictitious security.
Perhaps, I’m better off on my own,
All alone.
But you lose the chance to form connections,
To enjoy the people that surround you.
Perhaps, I should stop playing this game,
And admit that I am very much afraid.

Pluto floated somberly in his orbit that was askew,
Pondering the privilege that had been taken from his view.
He once was a part of the cool kids club.
Now just a floating rock.
Pluto remembered it vividly,
The moment a human discovered him initially.
Oh, how it filled him with such glee,
If only temporarily.
Jupiter was the biggest bully,
Chastised Pluto for his size,
Not that he could help it at all.
It gave the planets a point to talk.
Saturn and Neptune rolled their eyes.
Who was this ‘moon’ trying to join in on their fun?
Mercury screamed its disproval,
As it was blinded by the Sun.
Mars and Venus were indifferent,
And Uranus was Pluto’s one defendant.
Finally, the humans on Earth gave their verdict.
Pluto didn’t meet the criteria to be a planet.
He was immediately shunned,
His dwarf planet status had begun.
Not even the light from the Sun,
Cared to reach him at the edge of the solar system.
Pluto started to cry,
When Eris and Haumea floated by.
They lifted Pluto’s eyes.
Perhaps being chastised,
Was a blessing in disguise.

Vain loved his vanity,
From which he gazed at his vanity,
One might call it insanity,
Or self-centered depravity.
He loved the color in his eyes,
The prettiest blue, he surmised.
He praised the scar on his left thigh,
Despite its fracture in his picture-perfect guise.
He took another selfie,
To boast about his vanity,
But little did he know,
All he had to show,
Were about a million fans who loved his body,
And turned that into his entire personality.
One day, Vain woke up,
There were no comments on his post.
Something was amok,
It was as if he were a ghost.
Someone new had come onto the block,
A gorgeous girl named Guinevere.
Her post had put him into shock,
As his body shook with fear.
He quickly posed and took a selfie,
His fans rushed back only temporarily.
If he lost his purpose,
That meant the voices weren’t wrong when they called him worthless.
How could he deserve this?
Vain’s vanity was one of his biggest curses.
Guinevere won in the end,
She got the fans, the money, and all the fake friends.
Vain was gutted,
His heart was broken.
Was this preordained?
Was all of Vain’s vanity in vain?

I fear again that
    I have nothing to share. I just
can't quite trap the words