well I guess
that's the thing
about darkness,
it's not just part
of our surroundings
at midnight
on a tuesday
in the summer
or at 6 a.m
on a wednesday
in the winter.
it's more than that,
we can feel it
and sometimes it crawls
into bed with us
while we're staring
at the white walls
that cling to
old photographs
hung with tacs
of people who never
bother to call anymore
but then sometimes
it comes spiraling
toward us,
to knock the air
out of our lungs
and the wine glass
out of our hands
at 11:08 on a saturday
that's when it's hard,
when there are twenty
people smiling in a busy
room filled to the brim
with music and stories
and suddenly
all we can think to do is
stare down at our feet
and hope it'll leave us be

I'm afraid of losing you
I'm afraid that I already have
I'm afraid that if I never had you
I'd fade away from day to day
In a consistent stream of apathy
I'm afraid of the dryness in my throat
every morning at five am
I'm afraid of the cigarette between my fingers
an hour later
I'm afraid of the quivering in my hands
When I run out of coffee
I'm afraid of my closet
I'm afraid of the sizes in my clothes
I'm afraid of the way my friends think
I'm afraid that they don't think at all
I'm afraid of the drugs in their cabinets
I'm afraid of the drugs in their veins
I'm afraid of the silent pain that is too often
conveyed in a stranger's eye
I'm afraid of the people I work for
I'm afraid that they don't know how to love
I'm afraid of love
I'm afraid of my bedroom
I'm afraid of every man who's slept in it
I'm afraid of the people who
don't have the things they need
Equally afraid of the ones that have everything
They want
I'm afraid that nothing out here is right
I'm afraid that I made it that way
And I'm afraid that this fear
Just isn't enough to make me change my ways