I've wondered for a long time about those people
Those whose sense of self, at least outwardly, seems strong
People whose garden develops its greens high around them
People with smoke drifting from their irises with certainty
They have such fire...

As so much time of mine has been wasted like a council house ****
A youth indulged on a see saw swinging between masochism and arrogant self indulgence
The years after bringing me back to the cell formations bestowed instead of those imagined
I find myself... learning to develop, running the marathon in last place
But..
It's not the place that bothers me

What bothers me is my love of the constructions..
Seeing so much through screens and day dreams
Seeing such possibility
What I wonder is that if any of it can be..
Built. Created.
Can I put myself headlong into book after book to develop the knowledge to write my own?
Can I persuade others to be confident in me when I find so little for myself?
Can I build a lifestyle that gives me pride and routine when it seems so difficult to envision?
Can I set myself so serenely and simply into a world which worries and complicates me?
Can I reach that high bar and pull hard enough to gain the empowerment I crave?
Can I say to that person... the person who may exist or may not, who could make me happier than any other person, when the moment comes, can I say what I really want them to hear?

I wonder, worry, forget and remember these things
But I plan on letting go of the nagging analysis of insecurity
To... have a go at the now, at the work and the life
And see what happens.