Digitalis
All my life, I have known fear.
A restless mind,
a quiet sense of ruin.
It walked beside me—faithful,
a shadow within my shadow,
warden of an unseen prison.
I was afraid.
I am still afraid.
Of whom? Of what? Since when?
At what moment
was I cast into this current?
Oh, how many faces it wears,
changing with every season of my life.
Oh, how deep her roots sink—
layered like an onion,
each ring a hidden cage.
I choke on my own fears,
walls rising too often
against the pulse of my heart—
walls that only ask
to be opened.
Yes, I tried to open them,
not knowing what would rise
from their depths.
A fractured past.
Scars that linger.
A child, lost.
Scenes that never truly faded.
I feared my fears.
And there—
in the eye of my suffering,
a fragile light flickered—
the quiet promise
of another dawn.
So I sat with them.
I let them enter my space.
Like old companions
who began on the wrong foot,
we learned to speak again—
to see,
to listen.
They met my gaze.
Sharp.
Unsettling.
Unforgiving.
A gaze heavy with forgotten truths—
truths I had buried
in silence.
I did not run.
No—not this time.
I was afraid.
Even that time.
But I stayed.
And in that discomfort,
something shifted—
keys,
quietly placed in my hands.
Keys to clarity.
To understanding.
Yes…
I learned to understand.
And then—release.
A pressure loosening,
almost imperceptible.
My heart, newly aware,
beating like the slow rise
of a distant sun.
My fears remain.
But now—
I see them.
I know them.
And they no longer crush me.
They revealed their workings,
their silent machinery,
pulling me
out of my own doubt.
Their truth—
I learned to hear it.
Their burden—
I learned to hold it.
Fear is not only a dark cavern.
It is also
the teacher of the brave.
Like Digitalis purpurea—
beautiful,
poisonous at first glance,
a quiet bearer of death…
yet within it,
the medicine of the heart.
My fears—
no longer chains.
My fears—
signals.
warnings.
Fear—
a language.
A sentence.
A shield.
A guide.
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With clarity,
The Mirror Room
Odel A.
This poem reads like someone finally putting language to a lifetime of carrying fear around.
The way fear is described as a shadow that never leaves your side feels painfully real.
I love how the poem doesn’t pretend that facing fear is heroic it shows the shaking, the doubt, the staying anyway.
There’s something deeply honest in the way old memories rise up, like things you thought you’d outgrown but never did.
The moment of sitting with fear instead of running from it feels incredibly brave in a quiet, everyday way.
You can feel the shift happening slowly, almost silently, like a tiny light appearing in a dark room.
The Digitalis metaphor is beautiful something that can harm you but also heal you if understood.
It captures how fear can be both a weight and a guide, depending on how you meet it.
The poem doesn’t promise freedom, just understanding, which feels much more true to life.
By the end, it feels like someone finally learning to live with themselves instead of fighting their own mind.
Such a great reckoning with fear Odel. I love the shift from being hounded by fear and learning to stay with it and gaining life lessons. Good writing. I know you collab a lot, but these occasional poems just by you are such treats.