Words from an Insomniac still trying to find her way

Hello, My Name is: Agoraphobia

When it’s my turn to go

who will open the door?

Who will give me that push

before I change my mind… again.


When it’s my turn to go

what will be on the other side?

Will it blow up in my face,

leave me anxious, hurt..


I’m a coward.


They’re out there

bitter dogs,

violent thoughts,

angry people.



so many and I can’t…

Where’s my liquid courage

my blue or red pill?

That invisible cloak

to get me over this hill?


Today is the day…

Sweaty palms,

the stench of fear is near.

My hands shake violently

as I hear them all at once,

safe behind my door.


Tomorrow is the day.

I’ll get over it tonight,

while sirens scream

and tires screech…

on second thought,

I think I’d rather sleep.


When it’s my turn to go

will you hold my hand?

Will we take it slow

there’s so much and I can’t…

I’m afraid again.


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