Ribbons

She stands there, shaking,
ribbons of fear
wrapping around her,
encircling her wrists, marking them with
red as they tighten.
She panics.
She could let the fear envelop her, succumb to its wishes,
pretend they're really fancy ribbons,
a luxury, not a limit,
pretend there's nothing wrong, yes, but that would only
be giving up.
She could do what they tell her to do,
rip those ribbons off and
leave them in a pile by her feet, but she knows it's
no use.
No one can really
leave fear behind, she knows. Those ribbons will
come back in the end, they always will.
So instead of giving up, and
instead of
trying to rid herself of fear, she takes those ribbons
ties them in her hair, so
they fly loose and free
in the wind.
Her wind.
The wind she makes, because she is stronger than those ribbons.
They aren't gone forever, but
at least they're not in charge.