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


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




Filed under Poetry

3 responses to “Back

  1. Look what you made me done do 😉

    some things
    we are un
    able reading

    the too personal center slice
    bleeding on our plates
    meat we cut and call pink
    to feed us, we chew

    we eavesdrop
    a soul sobbing
    and call it music

    and read that diary–
    feel the today pulse
    of what’s no longer secret

    there are words here
    covered, gagged
    and waiting
    for release

    what weighs down
    lightens us

    when we give wings
    or breath
    to what we would keep

    as ours–
    speak the raw,
    the rare, the broken

    fused to wholeness
    once shared

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