Why,
hello, fear,
my dear,
my friend,
constant companion
on whom I depend!
How you jump backwards
when thus I meet you,
bristle at pleasantries
when thus I greet you!
Naming us equals,
I cause you to squirm
and, shifty-eyed, slink off,
which serves to confirm
my growing suspicion
that, though you say
I am your peer—
I’m really your prey.
Loyalty is your promise,
protection is your pitch.
I bought it all but somehow you
pulled off a clever switch:
I strive each waking hour to
remain in your good grace,
while alternative emotions
you suppress, block, and displace.
Each modicum of peace for me?
You flash up a disaster.
You aren’t my friend, no friend at all.
You have become my master.
So listen, fear, you’re fired.
Or rather, reassigned,
demoted from the apex of
my all too trusting mind.
No longer lord and master,
not even peer or pal:
a true friend would embolden,
not extinguish, my morale.
You may no longer rule me.
I guess I’ll let you serve;
just bear in mind that even this
is more than you deserve.
So,
shove off, fear,
you hear?
Begone.
I’m my own taskmaster
from now on.
(Words and images by Sarah Hinlicky Wilson.)