My Dearest Fear

Me and my shadow lover,

Demon-wraith of my brain.

Rewired like solid limbs.

Sinewy, like stale red vines

Stolen from my son’s

too-bright jack-o-lantern

Binging for both he and me

As he winds shadow chains

Around me.

I like it, even crave it.

The chain linked worries

I’ve forged like Scrooge’s

Spectral miserly train.

There’s one about money

empty and sharp like the knifed-pain

in the belly I massage when

buying me-treats,

one Target purchase at a time.

Another’s bent-backed in an S-chain

looking at its feet in defeat.

Her name’s self-doubt,

hunched away from her “dear” friend

who coos well-meant kindnesses

like voodoo needles on how to fix

my hair so i can care to fit in somewhere.

“It’s okay, you only need me,”

My lover hisses wet inside my ear.

“I’m here to be your own personal fear.”

Wrapped tight like a mummy bag

Cozy because I’ve worked it

to fit my frame.

Stretching and rubbing the fabric of my mind

till I can bury myself deep and nest.

Or fester, happily interred,

Undisturbed and alone,

With myself and him.

The manifested darkness within

Who promises to never leave me.