My weight is heavy,
so I bury myself in your marrow—
convincing you to carry,
releasing my burden.

When you’re standing
on the edge of courage,

I’m the whisper in your bones,
the hand that pulls you back,
a reminder—

I’m in control.

I am not real—
I am imaginary,
a never forming mirage.

I am F.E.A.R.—
a False Expression Appearing Real.

I get a rush every time
I hum beneath your skin
keeping you frozen
in shackles of “what if”
where your reasoning
and harmony are stolen.

I am the static in your
signal that screams
a storm awaits behind
that unlocked door.

I am the creaking in the attic,
the phantom sound
that keeps you under house arrest.

I was birthed from chapters in your life,
woven from old wounds and family echoes.

You can silence me any time,
but we both know—
you’re too frightened.