Fear Of Writing

I try to write something.
At least one thing.
Every day I am alive.
And then I try to post it
On my blog.

Hell, I wouldn’t even care
If the only thing I wrote
Was a simple Haiku.
Just 17 syllables long.

I started this project
On July the First of
2010.
And I’ve tried to stick with it
Every day since then.

I’ve failed.
Like this past week.
When there were several days
I didn’t write
One damn thing.

Sometimes, I know
That it’s hard to write.
To come up with an idea
Every day.

Sometimes, I wonder.
Am I out of dreams?
Have I made all the wishes
That I will ever make?
Am I out of things to say?

Sometimes I feel as if
No one would notice
If I were to stop.
If I were to go away.
And never write
A single thing.
Ever again.
In this life that I’ve been given.

But then I realize
That what I feel
Is just that.
It’s what I feel.
It may not be real.

It’s simple fear.

Fear that what I write
Is nothing more than junk.
That I’m wasting my time
By trying to write
Anything at all.

Fear that what I write
All says the same thing.
But disguises what I’m saying
With different words.
And different characters.
And different settings.
But that underneath all that
Everything I write
Is the same.

That my writing never changes.

And my greatest fear of all.
That what I write
Will never be read.
By anyone.

I am afraid in fact,
That every word I write
Will be examined.
And then analyzed.
By the people I work for.
And that those people
Will use the things I write
As a weapon against me.

Like they have before.

It’s times like these
When I am filled with doubt,
And hounded by my fear,
That I have to stop.
And find my way back to
My own center
Once again.

I’m learning how
To close my eyes.
And breathe,
For a little while.

And as I breathe,
Calm returns to me.
And I can recognize
The fears I have
For what they are.

Transient feelings,
And nothing more.

Then, I rest a bit.
As I examine my own fears.
And slowly turn back
Into their midst.
So that I can get past them
Once more.

Because the truth is
That I write.
I always have.
I always will.

Writing’s just another part
Of my very heart and soul.
And if I don’t write
I can’t be whole.

So I take care
Of the fears I have.
Working through them all.
Until once more
I can pick up my pen
And write once again.

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