poetry

The Source Of My Anxiety

I fear fear. Fear in itself.
Like an inception into my reality
Like a scorn hidden in a corn field, which Van Gogh drew on some starless night from under a blanket.
I fear fear, fear in itself like a rabid dog stuck in his teeth loosely hanging from your ankle.
I fear fear, fear in itself like the never painted paintings and the unspoken words lost to the conversation.
I fear fear, fear in itself because I stand here, no stainless emotions,
bare-chested, knees wobble, veins collapsed, wrinkle-eyed,
Unsure of the words I must be speaking.
I fear fear.

– Vivian Dünger

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