The Fear

It eats at him all the time. Every minute, every moment. Is this all there is? Is this all there ever will be? A history of betrayal like a history of violence that can’t be shaken. Coffee and endless cigarettes. Alcohol that dulls the pain for awhile. And he walks. He’s always walked. And always away. Hiding, walking, pretending. Why’s there no medicine for this — a happy pill that’ll take it all away? He wants to sleep, to sleep for years, to wake up in five in a different world. But he can barely sleep five hours a night. And the fear’s back, like a nasty animal nestled at the base of his neck, biting, scratching, whispering “failure”. Is there no redemption, no forgiveness, no last chance at happiness? His hindsight’s so perfect, crystal clear, but his steps stumble like those of a blind man, walking backwards.

Another chance, please, oh God, another chance at happiness, but the fear’s there again, whispering “never again,” and he fears she’s right.

3 thoughts on “The Fear

  1. theres always a second chance…all you need to to do is be brave enough to face some consequences and maybe learn out of this…theres no perfect thing in this world same as through with fears it is inevitable because each of us has weakness…but what matter most is how we handle everything…nice post…Godbless

  2. Regret is always for people with futures! You have always lived your life as you see fit. The Sunday Leader can only lay claim to Unbowed, Unafraid, you actually epitomize that statement. Do you still have that poster you made ~ Walking in the valley of death…~ Live it!
    I am very proud of you and always will be!

  3. David,
    I feel its not my place to comment but being someone who walked down those steps in the picture a couple of times (and existed for months, in that fine line between sanity and madness),I felt I should add something.

    For me its always something that acknowledged the value of my existance (for me),each day that brought me back from the dark.

    It might be friends, music, creating a piece of art, a challenging new job or whatever.

    God gave you a talent to express yourself in words but the sensitivity that comes with that gift is sometimes a pain in the arse!

    That’s the penalty you pay. It makes you hurt a lot harder than other people.

    Oh yeah, and Fuck that fear, she don’t know what the hell she’s on about!

    Apologise again for being a bit out of my lane


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