fear waits for me in the wings
and it smells like a promise.
"i believe i should be feeling disappointment,"
i tell the friend who is acting like a therapist.
instead,
i understand that skydiving feels like dread,
feels like a deep drop on a rollercoaster,
feels like waking up and being back in a nightmare.
when i swallow,
the lump in my throat grows.
"its like yellow next to red next to blue next to green next to
magenta."
the friend sighs and prays over her clipboard with a pen,
"you're a lot more messed up than i realised."
fear steps onto the stage,
the bright lights in it's eyes.
how fitting,
applause.
— how my anxiety feels.
