The Fear

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Imperfektionist

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I wish I could babble of my past in peril
Or my childhood poor as dirt
Of a knack for violence or a lack of guidance
How the death of kin can hurt

Only if I could romanticize my trauma
I would long have learned to cope
With these common trifles and the melodrama
Not to knot this hangman's rope 

But it's the fear of myself that scares me the most
I don't understand 
She's all that I have, impaired by a ghost
It's all in my hand

If only I remembered fire becoming embers
Would I not have learned by now?
All across the cultures fright drives off the vultures
Being anxious is allowed

But it's the fear of myself that scares me the most
I don't understand 
She's all that I have, impaired by a ghost
It's all in my hand

But it's the fear for myself and nothing I can choose
I draw her into bed
She is all I have and nothing I can use
It's all in my head

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