i'm scared of
everything i have worked for amounting to nothing. in one cold
sweep, a wind could take it all. i keep my head down. gravel
beneath my knees keeping my senses on high alert. the fear of it
all being for nothing, i bury it for a while. i will meet it at a
dead end street. when i turn this back on myself and fall to my
knees again. i will face this thought more frequently until it is
tame. until the pulse beneath my fingers has
settled.