and i am scared

do i hold weights in my hand
that bound me to Hell?
or am i sinking my nails into a rope
that saves me from the plummet of death?

will i let go,
and will i find you?
holding my hand,
kissing my neck,
stroking my cheek?

or will i fall into the arms of a drunk stranger who shares your face?
who dances and sings and paints like you?
but doesn't remember me?

i can't tell.
some people can,
but i can't.
and so i'm terrified
to even breathe differently,
because i don't know if
my lungs will stop entirely,
or if
my fingernails will lose their blue tint.

maybe,
i'd rather not know at all.