Fear Itself Is Undefined
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?
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?
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?
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?
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 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?
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-
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