Emily Pham's Self-Reflecting Poems May 2014 | Page 13

I lay on my bed soaking my pillow with my tears,

I try to remember exactly what it is that I fear.

Is it the passing of time or the love that I lack?

Is it the mistakes that I've made or the fact that I can't bring the past back?

What is it that I'm afraid of?

Why am I so scared?

Is it the people I've hurt or the people that have hurt me?

Am I afraid of everything that I can't seem to see?

Is it the love of a friend, or the loss of my family?

Is it the possibility that my life can end in a tragedy?

What is it that I fear most?

What do my eyes say I'm scared of?

Is it the sun that sets but won't seem to rise?

Is it the hope that I have that always seems to die?

Is it the trust of a person that I cannot begin to grasp?

Is it all the memories of my horrid past?

Is it me?

Can it possibly be that the thing I fear most is the thing I can't be?

The things that I try to understand?

The me that I try to be with when I'm feeling sad?

The person I'm expected to be? Is that what I fear? . . .

I think the thing I fear most . . .is me

~Bianca Flores

Fear Itself is Undefined