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Mar 2019
So much to tell you. So much to show you.
So many back and forth. So many two way -
Conversations and emotions,
Giving and taking,
Vulnerabilities and experiences,
Sharing and creating;

Yet I find myself holding back words,
Suppressing feelings I have not trusted
for quite a while now.

I am stuck, frozen with anxiety.
Anxiety is a leftover.  I hate leftovers because
I am proud like that.  Anxiety is the PTSD I get
from falling all my life and not noticing until,

I hit the ground face down,
taking you with me and my pride;
for I was so sure
It was you.

My focus was wrong. It was not you.
That **** humbled me like a heart attack,
so I hide in plain sight; making connections
but cautious of the depth so you have an idea of
but not everything. It is for the best,
I tell myself. I have to protect my hurt or
so I thought ‘til you asked the question
‘are you scared on my behalf?’

Hmmmmm, I never thought of it that way.
I guess I am scared on your behalf but,
but if I told you that, then I will be telling too much
and  I cannot;  my shameful pride

would not allow me.  It is ashamed and
can take no more,
especially if it is not you.
I have said too much and I have not said anything.
I have gone back and forth with myself one too many times.
I want to trust what I feel again but first these leftovers;

I have got to dispose. They have got to go.
Anyone know where to  find
a herd of pigs?

©Belema .S.  Ekine
Happy world poetry day!
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