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Writer's picturepullweedsgrowhope

The Fog of Fear

Fear lies like a blanket on my chest

In the middle of the night.

The more I flail,

And my heartbeat runs away,

The tighter it's grip becomes.


That's the thing about fog-

Just as I come over the rise,

(maybe I've figured this thing out)

There's another valley there,

Sucking all the air from my lungs.


This whispering spirit, telling me

Up is down and down is up,

Wants to hold me in his embrace all night

In the darkness, until I remember

I can turn on the light.



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