By Megan Dausch
I arm you, home, against my roommate. I teach you to listen, to clutch the world, yet treat it like baby skin. We build our arsenal by repeating: “The world is bigger than you; you cannot control everything.” When it’s time to fight, your muscles tighten; your heart thunders. I whisper: “Breathe, believe, unfold happy memories.” Fear and I tussle inside you, fighting for control. Who will win, hope or fear? I flay fear. This slaying is no triumph. You birth us constantly and quietly into the pockets of your mind without realizing, and Our next meeting might be now.
Bio: Megan Dausch holds a Master’s in Language and Literacy. Her poetry has appeared in Breath and Shadow, The Promethean, and the anthology Two Plus Four Equals One.