Big Ruts

My biggest fear, is not being as important to someone as they are to me. As though I have made my own way on this earth long enough to set down a breadth of deep tracks that wend through the major nerve centers of a bustling city; and to show for it my constant companion is left wanting for just a bit bigger of a cargo ship to escape on, or a faster car chase, or a less careful kiss on the cheek that turns into blushing that turns into white roses overturned like tussled hair from our bicycle rides in the hills. That before I know it, before I can take my hands off my face for the big reveal, that a part of me closes in a chapter too short and too un-profound. I still eat at the same places, fall asleep in the same warm beds of moss on the forest floor, but I know unfairness is like a cherry-bomb in a sweet apple. My biggest fear is not being alone; nor the threat of silence, not the taste of defeat. I love those things like a steeped wine. My lone and simple fear is using up the big guns and they crackle just a tenth of a star spangled banner in your ears, for we have abused our rights to disagree - and we agree that stars fall so hard and hot like hell, you can't bear to keep them in that safe pocket in your tender mind.