You frighten me.
When you ask me for things like friendship,
a night on the town.
An invitation thrown carelessly,
like a pebble in the water,
as you walk away without a care in the world.
As you walk away without realizing
that I am made of glass
and a misplaced throw may shatter this perfect illusion
of my reality.
I tighten my grip as anxiety roars to life
and settles on my shoulders with its familiar cold embrace.
“I’ll be there,” I whisper
Because I’d hate to disappoint you with my silence,
my mysterious disappearances.
But I breathe in and swallow my fear
because even a broken clock
tells the correct time every once in a while.