afraid.

the thought of spiders used to scare me. i could never lean against stone walls, especially beneath porch lights. or the thought of serial rapists behind my shower curtain when i’d come home late from work, or not wearing a hood in the rain. walking on the sidewalk when a bus would pass. rent payments. seeing him as i came around corners. that i’d one day receive a call from my past, one i never want. not finding the perfect raincoat. the thought of returning, or never returning home. quitting smoking or drinking or candy. seeing the dentist. nosebleeds. asymmetrical bookshelves and unaligned dresser drawers. people. my friends. work. my bosses. real estate. not being near a starbucks. losing the ring my mother gave me on my sixteenth birthday, despite. being left alone. not being heard. losing control. my horoscope. housefires. apartment fires. being ignored. flaccid penises. my future. losing gunther anywhere at any time. poetry. learning. reading. summer flings. having pets. hangovers or the prospect of later being hungover. not having anyone to drink gin with. not having a pen in my purse. or a tampon, or a band-aid. planning meet-ups.

losing my phone.

now i’m not scared of anything.
and, like last year, i am not making any resolutions.