I fear.
for the first time
in years.
tonight.

as I lie
to the ceiling
and any free floating
moments of clarity
that are willing to listen.
and speak that
I'm fine
with the decisions
I have made.

and the bases are free here.
but the flames
they cost breakdowns
in quarter segments.

like a phone
laying stagnant at 1 am.
and the feeling of lips
uttering something
about the feeling
of alone
and tonight.
I taste fear.

and regret
it's losing it's meaning
as the luster is
lost in transition.

my hands.
they're trembling.
and this poetry.
it's what fear
tastes like.