Monday, November 19, 2012

Fears

Paralyze my forward motion.
Continuously reviewed; my past.
Parse, tear apart, drift away my focus
From now, here.

Unwilling to be wrong?
High standards gone awry?
Or just internal schadenfreude?
A delight in my own misery.

Always my past,
Drug forth, tortured.
Each fault extracted
My anguish revisited;
Reborn.
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