Nothing to fear now, dear; only fear itself. The thought doesn’t occur though

until panic can camouflage inside every emotion felt, chameleon wearing an inverted belt.

Seize it for its pelts! Seldom are there naked eye sightings amidst this sheltered diorama,

namesakes given to the hues that shape internal drama.

I was never fond of being afraid in the dark; I embraced my shapeshifters and monsters dressed like drifters and made them into art. I could not yawn until in their presence, nor let eyes close until they drew hearts of shadow, made headrests of carpeted gallows.

The only thing to fear are the gears of my doubts I can sleep without a kiss on the mouth from lips that could impale me.

Nicholas is also a mental health advocate, author of…