Failure and Breakage

I suppose we all have our fears

Things that would drive us to tears

Like the sight of rats, or enclosed spaces

Thinking of being caught in these places

These situations holding us captive until we break

As a writer, I fear losing my senses

Losing my sight, falling in trenches

Losing my smell, unable to sniff in the scent of a sweet pea

Losing my hearing; no more music or the rolling waves of the sea

Losing my taste, no more dark chocolate, no more enjoying good food

Losing my touch...unable to appreciate textures, fine or coarse, bad or good

More than all that, though,

I fear always being my own foe

I fear losing my voice and heart to my head

As realism leads me on to become part of the walking dead

As I leave my dreams to follow other people's wishes and views for and of me

I'm afraid of being the reason why I fail

Of being stuck in my own jail

And I'm afraid of being the reason someone else might falter and fall

As they follow their heart and that special call

Maybe I'm that special something to them...and I end up breaking them...