Through the Glass Backwards: Fear, Unsaid Words, and Poetry

Heart in throat.
Breathing is a challenge.
This could be a last post. What’ll they all say?
I’ve spent years jumping around blog sites, different platforms.
Even back in the day when we had GeoCities, Angelfire.

I have to breathe.
Heart, get back down into my chest cavity.
Continue to pump the blood through my arteries.
Keep going about your business,

Let me go about mine.

Perhaps it’s the mind’s way of shaming me into stepping down,
Forgetting the authority – authorship – I have over my own life,
The fear does not get to win.

Fear does not get to win.

Recently, I’ve found those words
At the tip of my brain’s proverbial tongue
Heart wanting to remain open
Even when it’s scariest,
Perhaps especially when it’s hardest.

What words want to come out?
What words do I keep back, biting my real life tongue
A gate against all that needs to be said?
This is what keeps me moving,
All the unsaid words.

What is left?
What needs to be let out so there can be movement?
What words are resting, just waiting, for the author to claim them,
To write them into this story,

Into this one precious life?

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