And I fear

I have nothing to give,
as words stollen to express
the shadow in my mind.

Freedom has come with unexpected
turbulence:
foreseen only in doubts,
experienced through nightmare
torn asunder in the wake of realization.

To be oneself.
To be myself...
the door is closed, handle scorching,
fire ready to consume.
          I'm not ready to be consumed.

And I fear.

          I have no idea who you are.
          No... I have no idea
          who I am.
You have no control of the window
peering past smoke
finding the central black hole
consuming the world around.

I can't find this place to grow from,
and yet I want to give,
to experience, to love
and Love -- my body hungering
     to touch and be touched.

And I fear.

Can he, any he,
let out the flames and
help the the phoenix rise from
my darkness?
Can you? Can I?

I feel gentle winds
rising with the sun -- but they
twirl away with spring dust,
compounding submillimeter
fractures in my heart.

And I fear
to love and Love.