Fear is the way in.  Fear is not something to fear.  Fear cannot be told to settle down and sit still.  It will shake its head and demand you lie down in the snow.  It waves its finger and looks you straight in the face and says, “You will listen to me.  The fact that I exist is the sign that you will listen to me.”  Fear does not want to stay.  Fear hopes that it will leave; you are but a cog in its plan.  Fear does not want to hurt you, but it will.  Fear is the thought in your brain right before those three words, the twitch behind your eyes when the red and blues are onto you, the crawl of your skin when your lover is gone.  Fear wants to leave you, it has better things to do.  Fear runs quickest when you open your eyes all at once.  Don’t peak through your fingers and pray for the least amount of blood, the car to be in one piece – this was a crash.

Fear will not require you once you have stared at it.  It is pathetic, sniveling, vain, and insecure.  Fear packs its clothes up, leaves you naked on the floor when you start crying out that you’re enjoying it.

But it leaves.  And fear is too proud to return for its CDs.