Fear.

Fear sits in the corner of an empty diner

At 2 in the morning

With her back towards the wall

Staring at the door.

She hasn’t slept well in weeks,

And she hasn’t eaten since the sun fell down a few days ago.

There is a cup of coffee sitting in front of her,

But she remembers burning flesh,

And a twinge of uncertainty keeps the mug at a distance.

Fear waits for Peace to walk through the door,

But she isn’t sure how long it may take her to get there.

She thinks she may never get there.

Fear should have never gotten out of her house in the first place,

Because her mind keeps racing past recognition

In a blur of yellow and blue and black.

When everything around her seemed to fight against her brain,

The door opened,

And Peace greeted her with a smile and said,

“Everything is going to be okay.”