Fear is in my bones
In my step
Waiting for me in
Every gaze
I smell fear on the air
A mist that leaves
Dew on my skin
The drip is real
Escape from fear
Is unrealistic and
Unimaginable
A sorcerer’s spell
But magic is dead
The only truth is progress
Yet I regress as I fall
Further into myself
Dull-grey sword
Charlatan magician
Demon-possessed thief
I am all of these things
I feel them raging against
Sandstone walls in my chest
Demanding to be unloosed
Burst out through my fingers
Burn out my throat
Infect my eyes
Shred my eardrums
Splinter my spine
My inertia stills the fear
But it does not disappear
“Once you’ve got a task to do, it’s better to do it than live with the fear of it.”
Joe Abercrombie
Poetry Overdose 