archives, poetry

A Love Note to Fear. {poetry}


Hello, old friend.
I think it’s time I come clean with you.
This relationship isn’t working for me.

No matter how goddamn hard I try to break up with you,
You won’t leave me alone.
A relentless suitor, with hungry eyes for the wildest one,
you love to stalk me in the night and in the daytime too.
I was searching for a hero and there you were.
A knight in shining terror that not even the toughest armor could fend off.
They tried.
Oh, they all tried to save me from you
and I think we all believed they could.
But here I am.
Alone again
You and me.
And so let’s get something straight.
I’m tired of fighting you.
Trying to prove how strong and full of courage I am.
Because we both know
I’ll always believe I can kick your ass.
This trash-talking harlot.
Luring you in with her “I wish a motherfucker would” bedroom eyes.
You look back at me
Haunting smile
You see through the ferocity to my shaky bones and pat me on the head.
Stay home, sweetie.
The world is too dangerous for you to be in.
I don’t believe you!
I scream.
I yell.
I act out.
But the tantrums only spin circles
Until we’re both dizzy and nauseated with regret.
So what if I stopped trying to get rid of you?
What If we tried to make this work?
You and me?
My limbic lover,
that wards off all predators real or imagined.
Thank you for keeping me so safe,
but that’s not a safety I’m interested in anymore.

My fragile heart has been tested with glass shattered.
I have always risen.
I honor what you have tried to do for me,
but I need to set some boundaries.
I can feel your wisdom in my bones —
a beautiful destruction with timeless power to create.
I bow to you for whispering your ways, chills down my spine.
Intimate. Ancient. Mysterious.
But I no longer can be seduced by your siren call to stay home and bake bread.
I need my freedom back.
My fists are down,
legs cut off
and I am listening.
But I need you to listen too.
I will let you speak and then still bike down the steepest mountain
with messy hair and cackle with freedom
I will give you a wink and still spin under the stars
with my hands up in wonder.
I will feel your intensity in the ordinary moments,
and instead of running faster,
I’ll have a cup of tea.
And we’ll both laugh at that one, knowing
my restless raging spirit never slows down
But I’ll choose to forgive.
And so there is hope laced with gratitude for another day.
I thank you, my fear.
Without your guidance
I would never know what it’s like to rise from the burning ashes
The fire I thought would surely destroy me
and all those brave enough to love us.
But we are still here.
I am still here.
Raw. Shaky. Tender. Ready.
A force that can never be tamed again.
My name is Phoenix, you may have heard of me.
Calling on Kali, Mary, Durga, Eve,
all the rebel warriors who wouldn’t be held down.
A cloud of witnesses, who hate chains as much as I do.
This has been a good talk.
I think we are clear.
You can stay, but you can’t control me.
I’m sure we will have to have this conversation again,
but for now,
I will get off my knees,
Give you a hug,
Turn around,
Open the door,
And with weepy, tired eyes, go light shit up.


Angela Meyer is a Washington DC-based writer, teacher of Yoga, women’s self-defense instructor, and competitive martial artist. In addition to movement arts, Angela is also an end-of-life care counselor, Buddhist chaplain, 15-year AIDS hospice worker, and founder of Warrior Woman Republic LLC. She has a deep passion for justice, and loves the grass, the moon, and good beer. You could contact Angela via Instagram or Facebook.


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