Your hands on your hips,

My heart starts to twist,

You look me in the eye,

I try to run and hide,

Icy glare,

Super scared.

This poem is how my brother makes me feel. TERRIFIED.

Kinda rushed, but I don't want this to die. Inspired by two characters from my ski-lodge.

There's a Moon Knight Reference in This Poem

There’s something in your green eyes 

I haven’t seen before.

It’s like this…

Light,

A beauty no one else’s eyes have,

And I like it when you’re looking up at me 

Because I can see it glowing behind your gaze.

But…

It also scares me.

I don’t understand it.

I’ve never looked at anyone

Like I look at you.

All my life, there’s been rules,

Simple and comprehendible,

But you go against those rules.

I’m dragged down by my own insecurities 

Because the only way to overcome my fear 

Is you,

But all the cure’s ever been is a little taste of the disease.

boosting this thread! hopefully the contest is still on? 

~~~

fear is the way my heart starts pounding in a crowded room,  

the way my hands turn clammy, 

and my breath becomes shallow. 

fear is struggling to leave the house for a simple hike, 

because I can picture every way it will go wrong, 

and being awake at midnight, 

because my mind can't keep quiet. 

fear is seeing everyone around me be perfectly fine, 

while the panic floods me.

fear is watching my friends live their lives, 

while my eyes fill with tears. 

bravery is recognizing my struggles, 

feeling the fear, 

and persevering anyways.   

You can never leave this room.

They've pounded it into you

You must remain in this torture

Lest you seek your own doom

Thus, mind enshrouded by continuous gloom

You sit it the corner of this despicable room

Head too weary for any true thought

Heart too heavy, for fear of once more being caught

Yet it is not truly fear you feel then,

Buried under monstrous tides of undersaturated slats 

Filtering bare dusty light to lay upon but one fateful spot

Only when you peer at the door, that is when

The moths inside gallop at a hundred metres per minute

Mouth full of sand you can't quite cough up yet

Your ears become useless, filled with such a repetitive thrum

Yet still so uneven, haphazard, do your heart strings strum

And maybe one day you will throw open that sweet wretched door

But until then you can't quite force your body to listen

Not after what happened before.

would someone who hasn't entered the contest mind judging this one? it'd be great if we could keep the thread going :)