My Biggest Fear

(poems go here) Better than a closet door cracked open in the dark, you scare me from rational thought. More than all the monsters in movies, you shift my posture into a seated guard just being in the room. You don’t need masks or knives to do the job, just keep asking questions like an ice pick taking apart a block and watch me run for my life, tripping every ten feet like a child learning to walk. Like a disposable character at the beginning, curiosity swallowed my sense. I had to get to the bottom of you like where that sudden noise comes from, thinking there would be nothing until it stole my breath. I’m not even a quarter way through and you… scare me to death. There are days I want to stare you straight in the eye and tell you to go away like a fear that has to be faced. I’ll work up to glaring, I’ll fake being angry but, all I ever fight is crying when I imagine never seeing you again. More than all the bumps in the night, and horror in the world I am terrified by that. You don’t have to draw blood or curdle screams. You are a different sort of beast. You are the fear that cannot be eased by turning on all the lights and pulling covers up to my chin. I haven’t pieced you together by guessing. You are not like the others. There’s no protocol to follow or survival guide to read. There’s not enough space between us for the theme of afar to develop. What scares me most is that you’re real. You came knocking at the strangest hour, with the hardest of knuckles And I did the last thing I thought I would. I let you in, forgetting to even ask what you needed. Like the end of most films, I saw it coming and sabotaged my own survival. I knew, that if I ever saw you outside this office there would be no more like, no more crush no more doubt, no more denial…no distancing myself. By the end of the night I would be in love. But you smiled that smile, ear to ear, blinded me with those eyes like a deer in the middle of the road about to die and said "you should come" (more than once). Sure enough, sitting next to you at Bombers in a booth, staring into your bright eyes, waiting to buy you a drink like a diamond; your eyes fixed on mine like the sun on sand, I felt it happen. I yelled at myself like the television, “Don’t go down there!!!” But, like a dumb girl clutching a vase instead of a kitchen knife, I did. Grumbling to myself out of body, “Oh… you stupid chick "