My fears, they come to me in the form of boys with crooked smiles and dimpled cheeks.They come to me, snatching my poor attention span in conversations.
My fears, they come in the form of gratitude, in not knowing what to say next. They come pounding at my heartbeat that grows fainter, and worries that grow louder. They come in the form of people who love and let love.
My fears , the crawl up to me in the devil's hour when I can't fall asleep. They come at their own rhythm and leave at their slowest pace. They come to me at 11:11 when I desperately wish to wish for something I long but I can't..
My fears, they come to me when nobody's watching. They come to me in tables for two half unoccupied. They come to me in the stink of stale cigarettes, and in the people I felt I owned.
My fears, they come to me during the day, at night and mostly, when I think I'm not afraid anymore.
YOU ARE READING
Check-Mate
No FicciónJust a bunch of thoughts and random poetry written at 2 am 🤷🏻♀️ nothing fabulous
