I fear a spirit spidermonkey, and rub your ears before bed so the demons can't enter, and never think about aliens without a tin-foil hat...
I fear thoughts coming to life. A serial killer, public urination, a chain of snot.
I'm afraid someone is reading this, but I love the attention, secret admiration,
and it's not good to hide your troubles.
I'm afraid my openness, like God, is dead.
Broken relationships, or not feeling anything from broken relationships,
or feeling guilt for not feeling anything,
but I wish I could tell her I love her and mean it, and maybe after 2 years, everything could be just the way it was before, or better, perhaps...
"It wasn't so hard, after all," we might say, and laugh, on the bridge. Maybe I'll come back during the winter and it'll be the first time I see snow on the water.
Where will the ducks go in the winter, I wonder.
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