Is it something in your headlights? Or is it something in your hindsights? You don’t know if it’s true. But these peeves are as real as those who are scared, those like me and you
One moment in the sky, another in the ground, your fear is a smoking crater. For others it’s a swamp, a bug or a bird, and suddenly, a snapping gator
You’re in the dark, you’re all alone. Or are you? That’s all you can think. For someone else, it’s swept up in the tides, freezing and starting to sink
The creepy-crawly, with eight long legs, stalking you from the wall. Is this your concern? Or for you does that burn, in the cold, lifeless eyes of a doll?
A current of red that some people dread, which gushes from a wound. Well others at worst will feel their stomach burst in a cloyingly-crowded room
A cold silver prick, piercing into your arm, in a thousand places or more. For someone like you, in this big world of ours, it comes down to finding that door
Look down from a window, a hundred feet high, you’re sobbing to be on the ground. For someone like you, the worst thing to do, is to turn your whole world upside down
-Jøren, high school student, artist, and writer, produced on 4-25-22