post-fear.

it’s a state of knowing

this isn’t it. G-d I’m done waiting take me there

now, even if it’s not for me.

I’m tired and I want to be held like a child.

I’m post-fear and I want to be helped up and held.

if that’s no way to say goodbye

take me there now.

I’m done with this patience for sorrow

and smsing captured sunsets that don’t seduce anyone onto the immediacy of a Boeing

or into the urgent eye of post-fear panic syndrome.

and I’m a stepping stone until the next-big-thing

and I’m a leonard-cohen-track demanding to be drowned out rather than half-listened-to

and I’m background noise desperately seeking the attention of a wayward spotlight

who has his eye on the backstage safety-net multiplicity of me’s.

 

many there are.

here,

have your freedom at the expense of another.

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