Fear

"None but a coward dares to boast that he has never known fear."
~Ferdinand Foch (1851 - 1929)

I'm terrified.
I'm terrified of never making it
Of trying and failing
But mostly, I'm terrified that my little boy will look at me with large eyes filled with dispair or a belly swollen from hunger, his ribs trying to break free of his dusky skin. I'm petrified.

I had a breakdown. To look at me, to know me you'd never guess it.
I guess I hide it well behind my confident smile.
Yet inside, I'm terrified
Petrified,
Shaking like a leaf in a the gale of a hurricane, trying desperately to hold onto my anchor; afraid what would happen if I don't learn to bend, will I simply break?

God I'm scared. I'm scared to be transparent. I'm afraid to speak lest someone should hear me and chance being taken seriously. I have a lot to say, but who would want to listen? Or is that my insecuirty talking?

My heart is racing.
My throat is aching.
My imagination is running away on its own.
Fear grips my heart and squeezes until I can't breathe; it is choking me, as I gasp desperately for a single breath of air....not so simple, not really.

Fear sits at my throat, like an old woman on the stoop in the old neighborhood, watching all the neighboring children, keeping an eye on anyone that stepped out of line.

I'm stepping out of line.
I'm torn between the my fear to stay or go. I know I won't stay. I'm already going.
I just haven't quite figured out how to let go of the edge or to simply jump off the ledge.