Cherophobia

It escapes in a hiss
Like the steam from a pressure pot
When I sigh it explodes with a pop
My limbs tremble
My joints are locked
I’m too tensed to sit still
I’m too still to move
I’m too ecstatic to rejoice
If fate sees my relief
Might bring me further ill
If I’m not glad
I’ll have no grief
I’m scared of being happy

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