There is an unspoken fear
Of the fear that lies within.
Of the fear boiling in my veins,
Of the fear peeling back my eyelids at 1 a.m.
I say nothing.
It is unheard of.
All the screaming and shouting and yelling,
All the cries of pain,
And all the slashes on my thighs and wrists.
You hear nothing.
Yet it is seen.
It stares back from the bathroom mirror,
It glides and glistens across my cheek.
Its hold tightens around my throat.
You see me struggle.
A quick 9-1-1 call,
Followed by 7 stitches,
A weekly therapy session,
Trying to change a state of mind.
3 years and 7 months since.
I tell you.
A fear not completely gone,
But one no longer dominating.