Fear of Surrender


I fear,
more than a man who takes,
without consent,
simply for physical pleasure.

I fear a man,
who would turn my own body against me,
to cause trembling desire,
and true anguish in my heart.

I fear not a brute,
as much as I fear lust,
forced into my my own mind,
devouring me in its sin.

I fear being held by force,
wanting to pull away,
being frightened,
but given no compassion to my instincts.

I fear my walls being torn down,
by savagery and one's own will,
with no rest for my inner soldier.

I fear the lack of isolation,
the rejection of long-sought after solitude.
I fear the king who storms my peaceful kingdom,
seizing every last part of me,
taking what I have not offered,
leaving me bared and defenseless.

I fear the closing in,
the dread of the attack,
the moment when my worst fears are realized,
to have taken physical form.

There's a man in the world,
capable of destroying my security.
He is equipped to the fullest,
to tear me apart at the seams,
exposing every last vulnerability,
and enslaving every last depth of my being.

I fear the existence of such a man,
for I am not one to surrender.
Shall I ever concede,
I will lose the loneliness,
and all I have built,
will have been for nothing.

This is the fear of surrender.

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