I'd breathe, with fear of losing
all this air I've held in
for so long

I'd walk, with fear of flying
away from the ground I cherish
to float 'till I'm missing

I'd gaze, with fear of longing
and nothing looking back
at this insignificant me

I'd build, with fear of breaking
even myself under the cracking
weight of my tinkering

I'd write, with fear of silence
when the scribbles become wordless
only echoing worthlessness

I'd love, with fear of rejection
from expressions told too loudly
and brazenly

I'd live, with fear of death
that comes not from an end of an age
but from the motion stopping

I'd step back, with fear
of being forgotten
and lose the universe
I used as a canvas
to build systems,
write worlds,
inspire lives,
shoot frames...
and finally—
sleep