Sometimes

I get scared.

Of the universe,

And things.

It's so frightening––

So big

And terrifying

And vast

And odd

Material things,

It sounds so small,

So nothing

But it's so many

It's layered

upon each other

Cultivated by heaven

Or chance

I do not know

But it makes me

A material thing

Of nerves and muscle

Of brain and trembling

Heart

Of thought and––

I am not

Even sure

I

Have

That

Anymore

But––

It makes me

Feel small,

Feel weird and

Short-coming,

Short-breathing––

Short-living

Short of just reaching

For a star.

It makes me think

About things.

Think about

What matters,

What matters to others

And me––

But I do not matter,

I matter,

I––

matterImatterImatterImatter

I––

LoveanddoIloveanddoIlove

And it's

Planes

Arching through

The sky

Tumbling down

Cutting smoothly

Towards

The screaming ground

The screaming cage

Hearts a-thumping

Limbs gently lifted

A fear so great

A fear so small

And insignificant

That all you

Think

Is

oh.

I

Am

Human.

I

Am

Mortal.

I

Am

Un-mattering.

I

Am

Me.

Does

My next

Breath even

––even––

Count

Does the

Last one

Even count

If the End is so near,

And new and old

And cruel

And merciful

I––?

If life is so far,

If life is

In my

Outreached hands

I take it

I snatch it

I am eager and greedy

And I hold onto it

I make the most of it

I let it glow bright

So that when it fades

You still see

The shadow of its

Might.