Back

I hold myself back

Don’t approach my raw and private feelings

Like some poets who bleed their lives through their pens

 

Some topics scare me away

Too personal

Too embarrassing

Too vulnerable

 

I don’t want to share my personal hygiene moments with a crowd

But I have no fear of hospital wards

And being one groaning voice in a babel of painful moans

 

But no, I hold myself in

Not allowing the reins to drop

I chew the bit between my teeth

Still haltered to my expectations

And beliefs

 

I want to shake this loose

Self-censorship, restraint and fear

Fear that I’ll offend and overstep

Fear that I’ll drive you away

Through over exposure to my personal passion play

 

But at the end

Honestly

It really is about myself

What I feel

What I see

 

How to communicate my world to yours

Is the question

 

Its bound to be conflicted and incomplete

A brilliant imperfection

 

No matter what words I choose to paint a landscape of my souls intention

 

The reality is

It will always be a misdirection

And I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to expand

Beyond impressionism

 

But I have this brush

I have this hand

And even now I lift it up

Set tip to canvas with one bold stroke

Another attempt

Another try

Another reason

Or one more joke

 

David Trudel  © 2012