Feel The Fear

Party

You grip the brass handle, artificially
cold against prickly warm skin, push
down gently and you feel the door give.

You're at the edge of a cliff, vertigo,
the drop perilous, even eagles don't fly
this high, yet you step into the void.

Here is a new country, anxious glances,
a border crossed not at a checkpoint,
there is a chance you've been spotted.

A no man's land swept by neon beams,
a culture you don't understand, you seek
darkness, snatch any drink and a cushion.

Seated slumped your internal mute fails,
the noise steadily rises until it fills every
thought and pushes out your conscious

Fears.