Fear sells. Fear motivates. Fear travels.

Fear is walking home alone at two AM, and all the friends and fake laughs have vanished. It is the only thing left after the cold air sobers me up. It’s a funny thing, and it’s a sad thing, too. It makes me cry and wonder and doubt. Fear is my only companion.

Fear is midnight papers, straining minds for empty futures. All the promises of happiness are shallow, and all the hope is gone. It’s a depressing thought, and it’s a provoking thought, too. It makes me cry and wonder and doubt. Fear is my only companion.

Fear is a memory of a smile, a passing farewell from a lover after a rendezvous. He says this and that, and he lies through his teeth. It’s a scary feeling, and it’s an addicting feeling, too. It makes me cry and wonder and doubt. Fear is my only companion.

Fear is primitive and powerful; it drives me to do things I would never even ponder about. I’ve flown over countless hills and deserts, and I have yet to find myself without fear. I swam and nearly drowned, feigning I was a mermaid or a sea creature, yet fear still trails behind me like a lost child.

Fear congratulates me when I finished high school then college. It says, “Wow, you actually made it.” It is sarcastic, but I still have not grown used to it. It tells me secrets about myself; they are horrible stories that not even whispers should carry.

Fear watches me as I finally bind myself to man. It doubts me as I doubt myself because I have an extra burden to bear that no man would want. He is different, though. He knows how to quiet fear even if just for a moment.

Fear never grows, never gets feeble. The man does however, and fear eventually overcomes him, too. Fear is my only companion.

Fear drags me to my grave.