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
