reflection,
why? why is it? why is it i fear, i contemplate? i contemplate how to approach you, how to engage you. ive never met you, there'll be no dire consequences for my thought, my words. yet i hesitate, ponder, question. strain to focuss my thoughts to something meaningfull. something true to self. ive read your words, seen something in them that has brought inspiration to me. to rite, to let go. to be open. i feel fear, a fear of self. how will this be received, will this affect me. will this hurt me. a fear of a world with no real consequences to me. to my life. to who i am. yet i hesitate to share, to let go. i put this to paper, practice, filter, check and recheck my thoughts. and even now i hesitate, hesitate to go any further than just the paper, should i leave this as just my own solitary thought? should i keep holding this in. why, why is so painful to let go? i choke, feel the lump of sorrow slowly moving up to my throat. fingers shake as i type. tears slowly build? why? what is this that grips me so tightly? so painfully. i know what it is, i know where it lives in me. ive spent so many years letting it sit, letting it sediment. deep inside, resting quietly, but bow i choose to share this? share this with some one ive never met. share this with in a world of little or no consequence. no harm will befall me for my thoughts. yet i still fear this. this openness. this truth about myself.
why? why is it? why is it i fear, i contemplate? i contemplate how to approach you, how to engage you. ive never met you, there'll be no dire consequences for my thought, my words. yet i hesitate, ponder, question. strain to focuss my thoughts to something meaningfull. something true to self. ive read your words, seen something in them that has brought inspiration to me. to rite, to let go. to be open. i feel fear, a fear of self. how will this be received, will this affect me. will this hurt me. a fear of a world with no real consequences to me. to my life. to who i am. yet i hesitate to share, to let go. i put this to paper, practice, filter, check and recheck my thoughts. and even now i hesitate, hesitate to go any further than just the paper, should i leave this as just my own solitary thought? should i keep holding this in. why, why is so painful to let go? i choke, feel the lump of sorrow slowly moving up to my throat. fingers shake as i type. tears slowly build? why? what is this that grips me so tightly? so painfully. i know what it is, i know where it lives in me. ive spent so many years letting it sit, letting it sediment. deep inside, resting quietly, but bow i choose to share this? share this with some one ive never met. share this with in a world of little or no consequence. no harm will befall me for my thoughts. yet i still fear this. this openness. this truth about myself.