A hot and, by all accounts, blessed day,
Pictureseque.
The kind that people yearn for.
And yet I lean not into seasonal carefree bliss -
I fear my worries are too great to set aside, unchecked.
I'm scared that tomorrow will never come
But scared also, that it will come too soon
And I'll scorn the time whittled and wasted.
I'm scared that my life doesn't matter
But scared also, that it does,
And that I'm not doing what I should.
I'm scared to say what I mean
But also scared that I will
And ruin the moment or cause offense.
I'm scared to publish this poem,
But scared also, that I never will
And it will sit forever discarded.
I'm scared of wasps, but nearly as much
as I'm scared of a world without them.
And as I'm sitting here in the heat, afraid -
I realise that fear does not discriminate.
And when everything's terrifying in equal measure;
Nothing is.