If my fear of falling

is really just a fear of the part

of myself that wants to jump every

time I stare off the top of a building,

If I’m not afraid of needles,

just afraid that I’ll grow to

need them, afraid that

synthetic happiness is the only

kind I’ll ever find,



If I’m not afraid of love,

but of the way lust disguises itself

so innocently and then rips out

the core of it’s victim’s being,

Then tell me, why am I afraid of you?

- S.G.