First, it’s okay to be scared.

You can do nothing to stop
your synapses crackling,
the gasped inhalation

from the glint of a blade,
the scream so close
its breath warms your ear,

the ghoul in mud-caked rags—
a mouth of yellow, broken canines—
moaning as it shambles near.

They are part of the show.
They’re what you get
for the price of admission.

So you must learn not to thrash
at them. Not to shriek and flee
blindly toward some other door.

Don’t clutch your heart at one
scare so long you aren’t ready
for the next. And most of all

don’t conjure some horror
beyond your eyes—paralyze
yourself with terrors unseen.

Let the fear wash over you;
it only means you’re human.
Then take the next step.