fear waits for me in the wings
and it smells like a promise.

"i believe i should be feeling disappointment,"
i tell the friend who is acting like a therapist.

instead,
i understand that skydiving feels like dread,
feels like a deep drop on a rollercoaster,
feels like waking up and being back in a nightmare.

when i swallow,
the lump in my throat grows.

"its like yellow next to red next to blue next to green next to
magenta."

the friend sighs and prays over her clipboard with a pen,
"you're a lot more messed up than i realised."

fear steps onto the stage,
the bright lights in it's eyes.

how fitting,

applause.

— how my anxiety feels.