I don’t fear the unknown
I fear that which I would leave behind if I were to soar
Would my buildings topple without me?
Is all that I did a mirage shimmering in a dry sea?
If I die gasping, grasping for freedom,
would this all be buried beneath my sarcophagus?
It’s arresting and terrifying enough to bar me from sleep
to eat at the strands of my hair, to make me weep
spontaneously
As I live, I shrink
into a frightened husk
clinging to the past like babes to teets
