My dearest fear,

It seems strange how you can appear before me. You come up with just the right words, even tones, to make my mind spiral into little crumbles. Yet here I am, sat in front of my typewriter, clueless about how to confront you. It’s not an occasion that pops up often. A person’s first instinct isn’t to stop running, just to turn and face what terrifies them at their core.

You can mock me, even call me a poet, but it’s the only way I can crack open my heart right down the center. Fear you don’t haunt me, even though most would say so. You break my heart, starting at two pieces, ending in shatters. I wish you haunted me because it’d be mercy. The heartbreak is torturous to me.

When you fill my brain with thoughts of potential failures, results in my gut wrenching sobs, enough to fill the entire ocean, it doesn’t end until my eyes burn red. I hear the laughter of people who enjoy my lows in life. They view me as their personal circus animal, there to cheer them up with my sorrow. I listen to the disappointment in my loved ones’ pained voices, hoarse from all the pain they’ve had to release from their tortured souls, all because of ME!

Yet you can’t really break me, couldn’t keep me stuck like glue. It burns fury in your heart, thus a war breaks out. A war I would have never imagined in my wildest dreams. I will tell you fear. They lied to me about you. They told me if I faced you, it would be the end of the fight. Now, deep down, I guess it’s not the truth.

Once the dust has settled and I’ve turned my back, you throw your first knife straight into my heart. In pure shock, I grasp at the handle to pull it out. You take the advantage and strike me with your second knife while I’m kicked to the ground. In this exact moment, I learned that fear you are not a fair fighter, even worse, a sore loser.

I couldn’t back down just like this. Had to give it my all and attack right back. I won’t let you mark my brain as your personal battlefield. So I build the strongest shield to deflect your knifes of destruction. I build a catapult to throw stones of positive. Last but not least, I build an unbreakable brick castle to act as my safe space protected away from your fear tactics.

It’s over. You’ve lost the power you have over me. You crumble and fall to the floor. Understanding your reign of terror is over. You look over at me, shock in your eyes, piercing mine with the question “how”. With a smirk on my face, I declared to everyone that I would never quit until you were defeated. Now the sound of applauds grows louder and louder while I realized I won the battle. I’ve grown to know fear is a part of you. Deep down in your heart, you control and demand fear.
(100% style score)