I’ve been feeling very insecure lately. A series of little actions, unspoken words, and restless nights have all contributed to this unease. As I sit down to write about these feelings, which are just aching to get out, I find myself at a loss for words. Almost a fear of putting them on paper for worry of them being misinterpreted. In the past, I was an avid poetry writer (note I did not say good poetry writer, just avid). It’s been years since I’ve written, but tonight, I find myself thinking of two specific pieces that I wrote that seem to epitomize all I need to say. So in a spirit of release, in the hopes that it will make me feel better to toss these negative thoughts into the big blogosphere (and in the desperate hope that they do not return to me), here are my thoughts circa 1998. Funny how timeless feelings can be.
the emptiness of the room envelops me
fills my soul, engulfs my mind
swallows my heart, my feelings
filling me with an alien presence
unlike anything before
born of nothing, no definite reason
it’s simple presence says more than words
a sly uneasiness creeping into my being
filling me emptying me destroying me healing me
with its abnormal presence.
a never-ending fear of being alone
being second best
not being the fantasy, the one,
builds inside me
the pressure building to a climactic peak
flowing like hot lava inside me
with the need to end, the need to fail,
the need to walk
walk walk walk
ever further away
each step ensuring my first place
forever the ultimate.