I fear cliché phrases and I fear wasting time.
I fear ripped skin at my cuticles.
I fear big fish and swimming with creatures
like Mystery Beast who dined on me one Friday night in Doolittle Lake.
I fear being last
I fear being late
I fear being lonely
and I fear being homesick.
I fear IV ports and blood tests and shots.
I fear forgetting people's names and making bad impressions,
losing my phone and getting sunburned.
I fear improv games and large dogs.
I fear mothers I babysit for.
I fear losing purpose,
I fear pimples that leave scars.
I fear threatening men,
Trump being president,
anything else that leaves scars.
I fear a water crisis. I fear not knowing things,
not knowing me.
I fear desensitization to the thrills of humanhood and
desensitization to the plights of humanhood.
I fear the plights of humanhood, too,
and I fear not doing anything about them.