leash.

I know your bark is bigger than your bite, and more transparent than any cliche could ever be.

I'm not going to give up on you. I refuse. Instead, I sit. Ready for the fear to vanish. And when it does, I'll be here. Without a single scratch on my skin. Because my armor of present moment thinking made it possible to deflect your nips and snarls.

Yes, your ferocious facade will crumble.

Fear is your leash. It's up to you, to untie it.