"I have nothing to give. I have so much to lose."

Fear
sits on my shoulders like a cosy blanket in the heat of summer.
It's a shroud, a guide to living.
Small steps and tinier sips,
Leaping heart enclosed in a bony cage.
"Settle down," you say,
Breathe in and fold into yourself.
I'm a little ball of wool, wound tight.
It takes courage to pull a loose thread
to float above, to extend.
Courage is only a broach, fear is a second skin.

- Trish