The fear, is very real;

It creeps upon me

In the chill of the early morning,

Awakening me with a startle,

And a dry mouth.

For a second,

I’m not sure what it was

That roused me,

Until I feel it,

The familiar knot

In the depths of my belly –

And I know,

That it has come back

To show me

That it’s real;

As tangible as the hair

That stands on edge,

As goosebumps on the exposed skin

On my limbs,

While I retreat

Into the imaginary shell

Of forced isolation,

That offers no real protection

Save that, of facing the world.