the year of lyrics: a poetry project

my search for inner-peace, one poem at a time

Day 137 – Tight

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This is the life you were telling me about?

You had me dreaming so big, never anticipating fear.

Way to just let this bubble burst.

Here I am expecting with supreme expectations, carefully planning, making preparations.

And starving my soul from losing control, until one day I have filled up this bowl.

Filled to the brim each spoonful of faith.

Why? Because I drink my soup to prevent being weak.

Each week: the impervious wall towers overhead.

And the spiral staircase stares me in the face.

Solid steps pierce my flesh with a glare so intense, and in a sense, I stop.

Intimidated.

Confidence? Eliminated.

My spine so confined in a space undefined.

Dead in my tracks, I forget how to relax.

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