expanding.

fear.

feel it where you feel it. feel it where you can't feel it.

let it spread, like ink.

let it seep into the rest of you. arms, legs, belly, back.

come back from that place you sail to.

the one behind you, up and out and away.

lift your arms. feel the movement.

a little breath out. just to take the edge off.

and to feel this more.

fear.

I can do it.

I can do it.

I can do it.

it slowly comes to me. in a way that i can receive.

like wings of slow, moving birds. elegantly. soft,

like a secret whispered.

everything about this is repair.

permission. invitation. validation.

eyes and ears that stand with me in the holiness of

terror.

that the body remembers, doesn't make it true.

touch the emotion.

and blow into its ear, send it's force scattering like leaves

to the places that remain still

and silent

and, afraid.

tolerate that gap of dark night, where nothing moves

but monsters.

let your eyes adjust to the density

and soon it will be easier to see.

your feet will fall before you. the path will draw closer.

the earth will feel solid again.

from a fluid beginning of uncertain shadow,

grew the coil of a thick, tight vine;

binding breath. binding joy. binding life.

every step walks me closer into the untying.

into the unraveling.

opening the contractions and letting loose the screams.

the central core swims to surface, awaiting a full, long breath;

wave after wave after wave.

growing wider.

i run faster into the moment and don't look back; it is not the direction I'm going.

with a shudder,

my multiflowered feathers stand and catch the wind

that blows through. it's an autumn evening, full of all hallow's eve,

full of ghost stories and chills and thrills.

and, I can walk the hall and stand the shivering.

i can do this.

what my body and brain fear are not me.

i am not fear.

i am not afraid.

I can do this.

I can do this.

I can do this.