cherophobia
a fear of joy
for at this pace
the possibility of clashing minds
crosses mine
1, i doubt
my worth of this amount
2, i fear
it will wind up lost
for my inability to catch
what comes my way
and 3, i worry
it is merely an illusion,
unreal like life on mars and
the concept of time.
i worry of supernovas
built from empty promises
of sun and moon.
i fear the destruction
following the storm
to a point i cannot appreciate
the calm before.
i doubt even using "storm"
as classification
i wonder if this is typical weather
or if weather is real at all
and i wince at the fact
that it scares me at all
for this could be my sunshine.
but beyond the gate,
where will the sunshine end?
where will the sunshine turn
from warm blue coves
to roaring white tsunamis?
where will the gardens start wilting,
and when will our hearts stop melting?
YOU ARE READING
poetic
Poetryim not very good at poetry, but my goal is to write it until I am. and then after im good at it ill write more poetry because then I'll enjoy doing it
