Nothing To Fear Poem by Riley Choma

I have nothing to be afraid of, but I am afraid.
A tightness in my throat and rock in my gut to remind me- I have fear.
Fear because...
Well-I suppose I don't actually know.
It seems that even on the most beautiful day, my head screams 'stay inside.'
Inside: my head: my prison.
There are kind people and smiling faces all around, but still, my head screams.
I guess kind is only so kind when the mind is not.
I had always hoped it wasn't real- this thing I am supposed to fear, but now I'm hoping it is.
I am hoping there really is something to fear.
After all, fearing nothing borders on crazy- doesn't it?
It must, because the longer this goes on the crazier I feel.
So here I am, waiting under looming anticipation to find out what I am supposed to fear.
Waiting for either for something or for nothing, but never the less, waiting.
And I don't honestly know what I hate more- not knowing, or waiting: a state of being that now more than ever seems perpetual.
Perhaps the conundrum is that I am everything and nothing all at once.