What are you afraid of, they say.
They ask. They wonder. They speculate.
I pose. I think. I ruminate.
Most are afraid of death.
The thought of losing a breath.
Almost all are scared of loss.
Losing themselves.
Feigning personalities.
And frying of their ideal selves.

Am I not scared of loss?
Am I bold and fearless?
Have I not wandered to find the pieces of myself,
I would argue otherwise.
But death can’t scare me away.
In the sea of the abyss, I live in.
In the warmth of the loss city I have conquered,
I thrive and prowess in the valley of despair.
I can’t be afraid of the splashes
Nor the flashes of death and loss.

Yet, I’m scared of life.
Life in and of itself.
It is life I can not bear.
It is life I can not face (even when I’m facing it)
It’s life and the quirks
I can not condone
Nor I can frown upon.
For I it goes on and on.

Life scares me to death.
Death brazen me to life.
And fear unfolds the dark & the bright.