Poems for the Brave

I'm 'Scared' ~ Part One

I'm counting my fears, in this nighttime garden.
There's a sparkle of fire flying, see how
It's glittering in night's touch
That hazy stretch of navy opulence,
Star clouds billow like the wing of a pearly winged dove.
I'm counting my fears as they illuminate me,
And blacken my benighted eyes.
I think that the night will be over soon
And I'll face the withered sunrise.
For then I will be scared of the rush of voices
Filling the cluttered rattling of air,
I will be frightened still, of those who kill
That's everyone; all people who grin and stare...
At me, how many of them plot my doom?
It's the one reason I stay locked up in my room.
Where night's tender evanescence
Creeps over my presence
I mean - I'm scared of the plates from Wetherspoons.
Now when this dawn comes and my fright will flee,
I will be scared of sickness, any kind -
Of blood, the gushing, the speckling
So never bleed, please.
Don't you know I'm scared of falling?
Down, down,
Into the fathomless pit of darkness
A hole starved of light -
Something else I'm afraid of... Even the dark of night. 
When the clatter of human bodies
Encases the trapped air,
Listlessly I am scared
Of the boom! Shout! Of people shouting at me.
Being shouted at blankets me in ice.
The comfort of safety I cannot see,
But still my fear it flees
And I am frightened of loud noises;
Sudden ones, not just shouting, but gunshots, fireworks
Like my demon's screaming epiphany.
I know you may think it silly.
But more than anything I am scared of me...