it’s a matter of form not meaning like a vestigial appendage
like the reptile brain the mindless primitive on the seat beside you
an atavistic snarl the fight or flight reflex opposable claws required
the martyr or the coward the way forward or the long way back
face the fear it is always near it presses in like another atmosphere
shaping the features forming character in strata
your angst is part of you no surgeon can remove it
you must heal yourself you must walk through fire
the flames cauterize and clarify pain is momentary
understanding endures
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