When that moment of certain fear arrives,
In my head a turbulent storm gyrates.
Little beyond feeling, perhaps notions
that creep inside the mind ever ruthless.
Self doubt with little afterthought beckons
a spirited reaction, though docile
in its manner, subtle in quiet spite.
Conscious and confused, separate outcomes
seem to alter the confident repose
of yesterday’s pleasures; sweet elegance.
Dashed by a look, a comment, a true thought
aimed desire to know to define passion
We all seek solace from our certain fears
that dress themselves neatly in the shadows.
Yet, why now?
Why this time?
How is life
lies in wait?
a true thought …
How do anxieties become defined,
while internal pleasures speak only pain?
When did you walk inside this room of mine
that your response might merit my own life?
I will wait while heavy clouds dissipate
the lightning strikes my soft heart may create.