I Fear Nothing
I fear Nothing.
I’m afraid that it will sneak into my head, slowly, many years from now,
and nibble away at my mind.
That it will render me useless, unable recognize its terrible squeeze until it’s too late -
What’s her name again? I frantically scramble for the answer that I know I know.
But the only thing remaining in the cavernous depths of my skull
is Nothing.
I fear Nothing.
I worry that when somebody asks me what I’m doing,
or worse -
What I’ve done -
I worry that the only earnest answer I will be able to provide
is Nothing.
I fear Nothing.
I fear knowing it,
Being taunted by it,
Living for it,
Dying of it.
Becoming one with its final form for the first and only time ever.
Thereafter existing forever
in Nothing.