when turtles are scared, they tuck their little heads into their shell and pretend the predator is not around.
similarly, we will try and escape into our heads
and
pretend we’re
fearless.
but, what about when your head is your fear?
i mean,
you’ve got thoughts in your head,
Ideas to go forward
but our heads are cluttered far too much
for anything else.
the pieces are scattered, attracted to each other
like a broken magnet
without enough strength to
pull them together.
us, left
stuck.
pounding to get out, banging on anything to make noise.  nights spent assaulting minds,
wrists,
watching worrisome thoughts dripping out, making space
to think.
then panic. always panic. focus. focus. cannot focus. harder than trying to set water on
fire.
fear, like a tsunami of
“what could go wrong?”
“what did you do?”
“why?”
water rising, past ankles, waist, shoulders, mouth…
drowning. we’re drowning and there's nothing left to do, to think about. then we'll catch a break.
we'll get a chance.
but for every one chance we get to go forward
we'll get pushed two back
it’ll take time
we have time
we’re stronger than this feeling
i’m stronger than this feeling.