If I step outside
the wind will drag me this way and that,
the clouds will roar at me and soak me in chasing rain,
the air will be shrieking my fear, whilst shadowing every step.
If I step outside
my footsteps will stare down a broken paving slab,
my ears will locate the passers-by framed together,
my legs will be weighed down by every question.
But if I stay inside
the wolves will chase me from room to room,
the fear flies will find me and scavenge my stomach,
whilst the thought tigers will cage me and lock the door.
My carefully crafted balance has been shaken
everything trapped in this anxious storm,
I’m frantically searching for my book of perfect choices,
my umbrella of peace needs opening.
By Julie Stevens