We do not have a name for it.
We have never needed a name for it.
It always happened elsewhere
In far-away places.
But now we are not so sure
What is happening here or
What to call it.
When we speak, we measure our words
Depending on who we are with.
We speak more softly now.
We look over our shoulder to take notice
Of who might be overhearing us.
We are wary on the telephone
And on the computer.
We keep a low profile,
Close our blinds and curtains.
We shut our doors, never knowing
When they may come for us,
Knock loudly, and take us away.
When we drive, we wonder
Whether they will appear in a car,
Out of nowhere, pull us over,
Order us to get in their car,
And make us disappear.
Their terror has succeeded
Beyond their fondest hopes.
We have installed them in the inner spaces.
They possess our thoughts;
They stalk our dreams.
We have surrendered without
A single shot being fired.
We are afraid
Of our own.
The Fear