---
date: 2019-08-18
weight: 2
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Self harm
There is too much fire in me
to be described by the soldering iron's tip.
> I must not fear.
Were I to draw it across my skin,
it would all spill out at once.
> Fear is the mind-killer.
I'd melt, eaten whole by flames,
and flow into a pool of molten glass.
> Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
Sublimation would claim me,
atoms would scatter, diffuse.
> I will face my fear.
I would be borne up through the clouds,
and grow lighter by the second.
> I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
All that energy poured to the air around me,
an imperceptible increase in temperature.
> And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Particle would excite particle
until I'm felt only as warmth on your face.
> Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
But even that would not be enough.
> Only I will remain.