Behind the front door.

Fear that I will and fear that I won't.

Fear that I can't.
Fear that I can, but never will.
Fear that I might and fear that that I mustn't.
Fear of what I do, and what I don't.
Just being alive
is fear
but fortunately so is
the concept of suicide,
and so I live on,

behind the front door.

#

I wrote this on Dec 23rd, 2005. Ah yes, those were yukkier days.

I had originally titled it "Tension" but I thought the poem summed up agoraphobia and anxiety so well, so I added that last line just now and also made it the title.