DREAD

DREAD is a straight-jacket,
paralyzing all but your neck and eyes.
You can turn your face away
with the ever-present knowledge of
what you do not see.
Or you can stare it in the face
and revel in it.

DREAD is a soft, fanged black cat,
stalking you in the shadows,
hiding when you turn your head;
the soft, padding footsteps haunt your brain.
It sharpens its claws daily.

DREAD is a smell, thick, heavy, hanging
about the room. Musty, smoky, choking,
no safe air to breathe. Unseen, unheard,
unfelt, it only creeps into the nostrils
and does its sadistic, curling dance.

DREAD is a murky glass
with appearing and disappearing faces
that mock, taunt. This window shows vague horrors,
this mirror cruel forgotten truths.
Seen through the glass, the reality that you fear
is gigantic, misshapen, made hideous by old stains.

Burst the bonds that hold you.
Knife the feline that haunts you.
Exorcise the demon vapors that stifle you.
Shatter the glass that lies to you.
Grab FEAR by the throat and
shake it till it dies.
And you live
free.