I’m afraid.

Words I have to pry from my lips.
Force my fingers to type.

I want to be brave.

Instead I find myself drowning in fear.
Shackled to an overactive imagination
highly accomplished in worst case scenarios.

You might not know it.
I’m excellent at games of pretend.
Acting unafraid.
Trying to convince others
(and myself)
I’m fine.

But the words seem harder to find.
Smiles forced.
Emotions wild and unruly.

I’m afraid I will be single forever.
I’m afraid the depression won’t go away.

I fear the future,
and my utter uncertainty about it.
I doubt whether I’ll make the right choices.

I’m terrified I’ve lost too much of my faith.
I’m scared of the questions;
even more so of the answers.

I worry about people’s opinions of me.
I’m afraid of being known,
of rejection.
I’m scared I don’t really know who I am
and what I believe.

I’m afraid my life won’t matter.
I’m afraid I’m wasting time.

I’m afraid of living my whole life in fear.


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