I am afraid of becoming theoretical

I have found cowardice

A celestial whisper, the vertigo

Abiding ceaselessly in my ears.

In turn, I am much too afraid

Of too many ghosts. I am too

Vivid in the realm of imagination -

All scenarios dissected

Like specimens

Scrutinized to atoms.

Here, my catalog of fears:

Blackholes, darkrooms, sand,

Heights, points, and taunts of

the infinite:

Forever and ever and ever.

How can you vow

What god herself has failed

To promise me?

I cannot veer a distance

Off Aristotle’s means.

The future, too, hoards fear: blurred

Shadow and light, faint edges,

Dreams like water in my hands.

The who, what, when, where,

How.

I am not that self which is my potential.

That self which is beautiful and

Starry-eyed. I am afraid of becoming

Theoretical.

I have given up on giving up these

Fears. A foot trailing the other,

But cowardice still, pounding still,

On, and on, and on.