The things I fear aren’t always as tangible as death
or the loss of the ones I love.
Sometimes I fear loneliness and simplicity
From the words I devour
I stitch together my understanding of the world.
Through the chaos and clutter of this world,
I have grown unshakable.
My passion drives me forward
it slams the gas pedal with no reservation.
With no concept of brakes.
Yet give more than I hope to get back.
My love is weighed on an unbalanced scale.
I dredge the last I have from my depths for others,
I keep giving
even when I have nothing.
Emptiness has rooted in my bones of my once home, now house.
Skeletons of memory are buried in my heart.
I know that my Home no longer exists,
nevertheless I manage.
I am cynical,
acutely aware of the flaws of the human condition,
of my own flaws,
and so very hopeful that I am wrong.
I thirst for more.
Desire has dug my grave.
My insatiable hunger for life,
the final nail in the coffin.
Longing for stark contrast,
For extremity in which I feel nothing.
And everything at once.