What are we afraid of – I wonder. We destroy everything that gives life and livelihood to us in the race to merely survive.
We are broken, we are shameless; smeared with betrayal on face and stained with blood of friendships.
Under shadows we linger with Rusted Knives.
What are we afraid of after all this loss and all these scars that no more ache?
“What are we afraid of?” she asked. Not of the darkness anymore and not of the monsters from the movies. We are scared to live among them and we fear losing ourselves while trying to blend in for survival.
We are afraid of the darkness within that grows bold with every scar; that thrives in the evil around us.
We are afraid of what we, the ones who were safe a day ago, are turning into: monsters, zombies with a heart preying on sadness.
We are afraid of becoming them.