Fear

I am alone
and I don’t mind;
I have my words
and those of others
and images and music
and my cigarettes
to calm me.

So I sit in the darkness
and have imaginary
conversations
over an absent cup of coffee,
rue missed chances
that were gifted to me.
I see palaces,
but no princess willing
to live in any,
mighty steeds,
but no knight brave enough
to kill himself,
I see lovers
afraid to love
and poets afraid to write,
afraid to endure pain,
unable to make people
understand.

I look at myself once
before I throw away
the cigarette,
the happy dagger,
life,
the universe,
and everything.