By David De Jong
I’m afraid of telling you just what I fear;
Just disregard whom/whatever you may hear.
I’m afraid of writing, the baring my soul;
Opening scars, re-piercing each arrow’s hole.
I’m afraid I’ve forgotten, too many things;
Lost in a cobweb, of impervious strings.
I’m afraid the answers, to questions unasked;
The stories, the riddles, all the clowns unmasked.
I’m afraid of loneliness, its aching heart;
Stranded in the desert, on a one wheeled cart.
I’m afraid of the noise, that roars through my brain;
Conductorless thoughts, driving a de-railed train.
I’m afraid of the water, taking me down;
Swiftly sinking, slipping deeper, till I drown.
I’m afraid of the dark, and its piercing eyes;
Its demons lurking, all their gimmicky lies.
I’m afraid of the bullet, missing the heart;
While the lion charges, and tears me apart.
I’m afraid of the others, and what they say;
Why they look and sneer, in that familiar way.
I’m afraid I’ve said too much, and lost my edge;
You see me for what I am, behind this hedge.
I’m afraid of my past, and the deeds I‘ve done;
But know my sins are covered, by God’s own Son.
I’m afraid I’ve frightened you, with all these fears;
The thing that frightens me most, is you in tears.