perhaps it’s the fear of being loved
or the fear of being left
that has been gnawing on my heart lately,
a cruel reminder of what it means
to be truly alone.
you’re here
and then you’re not.
i am afraid of being the thing of lesser importance.
i am afraid of the past repeating itself
but that in itself may be
a red flag.
for it is only I and I alone
that can prevent that from happening.
by choosing not to crumble at the slightest scent
of abandonment.
by savouring the sweetness of sleeping beside you,
until morning comes to kiss us with lips
scarred with inevitable parting.
perhaps it’s the fear of being loved
or the fear of being left
that has been gnawing on my limbs lately,
making it impossible to take a small step
on the days where the sun decides to resist the day.
i have no reasons to give you,
only a word coupled with a wide-eyed stare.
i feel too much and yet i feel nothing
at all.
sleep walking on a cloudless sky, trying to pin down
a distant bird, the root
of its incessant call.