feelin' iffy spiffy?

if i had to nail my worth
to a word, shiver in it's
decrepit/silent/still falling
world, i'd follow lonely
women home from the hospital.
i'd be afraid of death.

i'd be afraid of death,
if every time it returned i felt
closer to the reality of a life
coalesced in the secrets between
here and maternity wardens.
i'd be afraid of living.

if i had to nail my sword
to a wide swath of land, defended
by my own hand's will to keep
working/falling/scraping/kneeling
before eternal sunrise light
i'd be afraid of nothing, but night.