Fear.
It bubbles down your throat,
your blood, boiling.
Your hands, shaking.
It prickles your eyes.
You are lost in your epiphany.
You can’t breathe.
You are under the sand
it creeps into your nose
blanketing your lungs
encasing you in sleep.
Carrying you deep under heaps of sand.
You see you.
When you wake up,
you’ve lost your eyes.
You search around for them,
for the light
to scare away the darkness.
The light never comes.
But you see a beam.
Far, far away
like a star in its mother’s womb.
You gather all your fears
in your hands
and tie it in your wrists.
You run towards the beam
and the moment you touch it,
you become the star.
– Louisa Lane