The Sound Of.

I admire those who fear

those to whom
consequences
are merits of the
soul

gut-sick
with temptation

they overcome
and on their knees
rise above

I am a coward

admire me
and I will be worth
my weight

in paper, silver, gold

my words mean nothing
they are
the sound of trees falling

your ears are
an empty gesture

but this is how we begin
with fear

with cupped hands
wanting
starvation to excess

ache in the belly
to
ache in the chest

unable to distinguish
sacrifice from
gluttony

yet still
keeping our mouths
open