It was for my fears for what I've written.
Every time I wrote, I wrote with them.
I fear God, the lack of him and the system.

I fear myself, the others, outside and in the inner.
It was for  my innocence for what I've been bitten.
What if the soul not exist and I am just an item.
I fear the big, the small, the much and the little.

But I don't fear to die, I fear to live,
to live here, like this, live alone, together,
live today expecting tomorrow while I miss yesterday.

I fear the ephemeral, not the eternal.
I fear my bones, my skin and my flesh for being so brittle.

I fear to shine because the fear is not black the fear is white.