"the only thing to fear is fear itself." i didn't understand it until today; it never sounded like something that i would ever come to believe. i imagined it on the sleeve of a hero, on the tool belt of a protagonist, but never in my hands. deep breaths, deep breaths when i wander in the dark, but what is it that i'm afraid of? if the door burst open and revealed a man with a chainsaw, i would be afraid. but if he knocked first, or whispered, "i'm going to kill you now," i would tell him, "well, alright." i was never scared of the woman crawling toward me with her head on backwards, i was afraid of the single moment in which my heart would leap into my throat, and the adrenaline would trip me into overdrive. i never feared what was in the dark. the only thing there is to fear is fear itself.
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Open To Interpretation
PoetryThis is a collection of some of my old poems, short stories, and other writing that I created a few years ago, while I was going through a really rough patch in my life. I wanted to publish it back then, but this is the best that I can do for now. E...
