i am the captain of my soul

The worst enemy to creativity is self doubt – Sylvia Plath

i have fooled myself for a long time
thinking to myself that words will always come to me
and people think the same too

i am aware of my extensive
(yet somewhat limited) vocabulary
in my style of writing

my teacher commends me for my
control and execution of language
its an engaging, powerful piece, he says

we live by the letter of the truth
i inhale his words and swallow them
and i like this sense of being unique –
i work hard to become better

the harder
you hold on to something
the faster it slips from your fist

something feels wrong
i am losing the feeling of being unique
i am losing my mastery of alphabet forming
i am losing me

my hair’s a mess
my mind’s a blank
my hands are shaking uncontrollably
while my pen lies around languorously

i am desperate
wanting pleading begging
for the words and style to stay

i don’t want to be me
i don’t want to be me
i don’t want to be me
i am not good enough

i don’t know what’s worse,
drowning beneath the waves,
or dying of thirst

and it comes down to this
wallowing in self doubt and regret
but maybe, just maybe,
maybe its a blessing after all

I am the master of fate.
I am the captain of my soul.

English. Who knew I’d blank out halfway and forget the alphabet. (I kid you not)

(anyway here’s something to sum up today, by someone called lady magdalene)

sometimes i’m afraid of words,
how they hang on a beat
knocking on my head at night:
repeat repeat repeat

sometimes they don’t come at all,
their pounding finished, complete –
a new word for the silence:
defeat defeat defeat


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