How fear works
Tirelessly, in many places at once
Searching for home
Underfed, light as a shallow breath
With her mallet and chisel
She slips through doors and into trenches
Standing in the doorway of a kindergarten classroom
Sitting in a hospital reclining chair
Waiting for the surgeon’s scalpel
She takes up her mallet, and her chisel.
With no regard for skin and ribs,
She slips inside the chests of many
And starts at work on their hearts
Her chisel positioned, she strikes subtly, then with more force
Carving out a soft place for herself
She nestles in her pink heart-cavern
Perhaps the only place she feels comfort.
Once she has made a place for herself in the breasts of many
She can always return home.