Night Sweats

Fear, is the sister to I anger
I think.

They walk hand in hand,
Laughing at pain with no shame.

And hand in hand they come to me.

Anger, the brother, making clear
how ironic this is.
(I who wanted to close this book)
That I should fear,
I'm something more then paranoid.

Fear, the sister, laughs at my naivety,
That I would choose the end.
That I was not afraid.

Till the night sweats came,
with a bump, a gift from family.

Burnt Shells

            Today all I want is to float away,
             from stares
           
             real or imaginary, they burn all the same.
             hearts weren't meant to know
             that friendly fire is far deadlier than hostile can ever be.

           
              Today all I want is to ignore,
               truth

               that whispers that fear
               turns into grief
                       and grief
               to an empty shell.

                Today is a day to turn an ear,
                 to voices 

                that say hearts must be ready for pain
                because burnt out shell crumble
                and that emptiness begets emptiness
                and fear begets sterility of mind.

                so


                 Today is a day to tie down myself,
                  and quiet the anxious mind.