When the fear settles in

The fear enters the blood stream — my veins harden at the thought.
The doubt sews and ties the wires up above, but short circuits abound.

Smoke clouds sight.
It’s no wonder it’s called the nervous system.

Too negative. Too destructive. Too worried.
About a state of mind that tends to takeover.
A state I only tell you about,
for others eyes would roll at the suggestion.

About worry itself.
It’s perhaps my greatest fear of all.
About why sitting still is one of life’s impossibilities.
About why silence is often too loud.