I have these fears
Of losing everything
Of living and dying
Of forgetting to do something
And looking back with regret.
But mostly, it's nostalgia,
The bitter-sweet taste of days gone by.
Looking back at photo albums
Black and white images of little girls in lace
Faded and hidden safely behind plastic sheets.
I fear gazing at that album
In my tiny apartment.
Sweltering heat, landlords demanding payment.
Green paper that we need but can't have;
We burned it this morning.
All of it for food, for freedom.
For the man on television
In his gray business suit and beady eyes
Singing "my fellow Americans."
I'm afraid of waking up one morning
And realizing that I've wasted my life
Striving for something that I just don't have
That I can never have.
I fear waking up one morning
And looking beside me to see no one
And knowing that I'm alone in the humid apartment
Because I spent my life
Striving for something I just don't have.
I would light up a smoke
Though I used to be against them
Inhaling sweet, smoky death
Exhaling tailpipe fumes.
And I fear not waking up at all
Succumbing to the sweet darkness of the unknown
Lost in a six-foot hole in a field
Too quiet to be merciful.
I fear parting my dearly beloved
Dressed in black, teary eyed
Just to forget me for years until
Someone says an amusing anecdote.
My resurrection will be humorous.
So I ask myself, "What now?"
I take one step forward and one step back
Too afraid of the future
Too in love with the past.
What now?