I dream of assassins and monsters
terrified until I'm angry
and then I stop running
I stop fighting
I stop trying
I give up,
hoping to die before I see my loved ones slaughtered.
Kill me quick,
I'm sick of being scared.
Maybe feeling terror in the moments before an untimely death
scares me more than death itself
because fear never dies and scars never fade
the end seems welcoming
I'd rather die at peace than clawing at my throat
or haunted by memories of the terror and helplessness of a near-death experience
Fear of fear versus fear of death,
the kind of talk that makes friends worry.
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