fear is not the trembling horror of haunted houses and jump-scares
it’s the empty pit of dread that has been festering in my stomach for months
it’s the sobbing terror of my friend finding out of a supreme court nominee that doesn’t believe in her existence
it’s the damning knowledge that the country i was told to love blindly has taken fifty steps backwards for the half step we had taken forwards
and i hold fear in my heart as i write these words, a fear of a reality that is so close i can taste the rotting bitterness, smell the scent of blood
a fear of a repeat of the four year nightmare in which i wake up and check my phone not for “good morning” texts, but for news of death
so no, fear is not the trembling horror of haunted houses and jump-scares
but i’d rather the haunted houses
than live in a future cloaked with the fear i know now.
the len(z) 