Phobia.
By Amanda Jay Clark.

We all have powerful phobias.
Things that fill us with dread.
Things, that rather than facing up to,
We would rather just be dead.
No one knows the reason for them,
And they’ve yet to find a cure.
They are a very annoying fact of life,
That we’re all forced to endure.

They’re embarrassing beyond all reason.
They make us cringe with shame.
We jump, and leap, and scream, and cry,
And blush till our face is aflame.
To avoid them, we hide behind sofas.
Locked securely away in the house.
Where we are teased, and asked the question,
"Are you a man, or a mouse?"

They make us feel like total wimps.
Cowards, through and through,
As we feel all sick, and dizzy,
And make a mad dash for the loo!
We do some slow, deep breathing,
To help soothe the mounting unease.
But we end up fainting anyway,
With our head between our knees.

For the first time ever, readers,
I am about to admit,
To all the things that send me,
Into a screaming, hysterical fit.
The things that grip my heart with fear,
And cause me uncontrollable stress.
That control my every waking hour,
And make my life such a mess.

My number one nightmare,
Has to be fear of flying.
As soon as I get to the airport, I know,
Today’s the day I’ll be dying.
It’s a death that won’t be easy.
My spirit is sure to break.
I’d rather fall asleep to dream,
Never again to wake.

First, the shake and the judder,
As we free fall down for miles,
Heading for death, and destruction,
With the power of missiles.
Then, the crashing impact.
Crushed bone pokes out through skin.
Any survivors await the inevitable,
For the inferno to begin.

The fuel explodes like a nuclear bomb.
Skin burns to the colour of burned toast.
The flesh beneath is cooking,
Hotter than a Sunday roast.
Death, he shows no mercy.
The passengers are all scared.
Not even God can help them now.
None of them will be spared.

I haven’t seen too much of the world,
Since I’m too frightened to fly around.
But I’d rather stay home that hit the skies,
I like my feet on the ground.
I have a good imagination,
That takes me where I need to travel,
I go all over the world, and back again,
And my nerves don’t need to unravel.

Dogs are my next big problem.
The way they bark, and yelp, and yap.
Not even the tiny cute ones,
Could I nurse upon my lap.
I hold my breath in panic,
When they try to lick my face.
I hear ringing in my ears from my heart,
Beating at a dangerous pace.

My mouth runs out of saliva.
My lips are glued to my teeth.
And you don’t want to know what happens,
In the garments I wear underneath!
My body really trembles.
And I’m rooted to the spot.
I’d give anything to run away,
But I can’t even break into a trot.

I pump out sweat by the gallon,
And get in a dreadful state.
Subconsciously, I think of my family,
My will, and my estate.
I pray that things are in order,
Cos I’m seconds away from dying.
Then I end up feeling stupid,
And start blubbering, and crying.

I know it’s not the doggies fault,
And I’d never see one hurt.
But I’m always looking over my shoulder,
Constantly alert.
Owners, please control your dogs.
No matter what their breed.
Don’t let them wander aimlessly.
Please keep them on a lead.

My third, and my strangest phobia,
That causes sweat to drip from my hands,
And gives me palpitations,
Is one that no one understands.
I loathe and detest balloons,
Held to the ceiling by a net.
I know they are going to be released,
And can’t control how panicked I get.

I know they’re gonna fill the room,
To be stomped on till they burst.
I run in circles trying to decide,
Which exit to head for first.
The stale air from inside them,
Fills the room at an alarming rate.
I desperately struggle and fight for breath,
Knowing I’m bound to suffocate.

As one by one they all go bang,
Like the cracking of a gun,
The crowd gets over excited.
I’m the only one not having fun.
People can be cruel, and heartless.
Seeing me frantic to leave the place,
They surround me, and burst them near me,
Then laugh loudly in my face.

Lastly, I hate driving.
Too many maniacs on the road.
Road-rage attacks increasing,
As they murder, rant and goad.
There’s also too much traffic,
Dashing in and out of lanes.
Head on crashes, leaving people,
As unidentifiable remains.

No such thing as courtesy.
You get the finger, not a wave.
Every driver fights to own the road,
But I’m simply not that brave.
I’ll never own a car again,
Or get behind the wheel.
It gets me too hot and bothered.
Why bother with the ordeal.

It’s not easy to admit to being afraid.
Some people don’t even try.
They find it easier to live in denial,
And to hide behind a lie.
I can understand that reasoning.
Who needs the added grief?
Having phobias causes problems enough,
And pain beyond belief.

We all laugh, but they’re not really funny.
They are with us all, every day.
No way to turn off, of ignore them.
They won’t simply go away.
They are nightmare that happen in daylight.
And invade our dreams while we’re sleeping.
Until we embrace and overcome them,
Phobias are ours for the keeping.

Next time you start teasing somebody,
Putting them through a traumatic ordeal,
Just think of your own fears, and phobias.
How would it make you feel?
If you had a big fear of reptiles,
How would you like to be chased with a snake?
You wouldn’t, so show some compassion,
For every phobic’s sake.

Phobia, is protected by copyright, and remains the property of the author, Amanda Jay Clark.

Author of Rhyme "N" Reason.

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