The soft, sweet tang of plywood dust
Always catches me off guard,
Its tiny particles pervading deeply
Into my memory.

It reminds me of all the things
I do not do with wood;
All the practical decisions I have
Never come close to making
For fear that I will do it wrong.

Fear of making mistakes might be
The most paralysing fear of all.

This is why I have learned so little:
The only lesson I can ever receive
Is that doing nothing achieves nothing,
And I continue not to learn it.

The self hatred stemming from
Mistakes I made is dwarfed by that
From all the times I kept myself
Safe from making them and therefore
Safe from joy.

Since I learned how uncomfortable
My comfort zone is, I have done
Precious little to try to leave it.
Everything is still in its box,
And so, mostly, am I.

This is nothing new: I have long known
What I must do, but I remain
Afraid to learn how; afraid to
Allow myself the possibility of joy.

06/14/2017

Posted on 07/10/2017
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