Fear in the Past Tense (poem)

By Luke Labern

Horror doesn't shock me:
I love the smell of death
So long as it's clothed
In drama, and I'm the one—
When I'm the one, who—
When I'm the one.

Fear is nothing. Fear is fucked.
It was obvious when it made me
Do something I really shouldn't
That I shouldn't
I'm the one—

Murder isn't murder
When it's kill or be killed
And great things are at stake.
Where is Darwin now?
In our hearts.

The back of a ten pound note
The back of a twenty
A man who saw evolution
A man who saw plenty.
Where will I be?

Time passes and I grow older,
Better, stronger—the one—
I feared I might grow weary
But I killed it.
Only better, we only grow.

To be afraid
The only mistake ever made;
I respect those who died
One way or the other.
It's you, who guess

And it's you who drift—
It's you who won't persist
And it's you who don't deserve
To share the breath of action.
It's fear or oxygen.

No comforts, now: it's not the time.
No commands, no promises.
Just truth: choose how to live:
You must choose well and be done
If you ever hope to be the one.