Untitled–A Poem in Progress

I’m scared, frightened, afraid.

Of what? You ask.

Of being alone, I say.

I’m here, you say.

For now, I say.

Forever, you say.

You say, you say.


What else? You ask.

The dark, I say.

Turn some lights on, you say.

Very funny, I say.

Death, I say.

That’s life, you say.

You say, you say.


I’m scared

Of living, breathing, waiting,

For what? you say.

I’m not sure, I say.


I’m scared of the future.

Tomorrow does not exist–don’t worry.

I’m scared of the past.

Yesterday is gone–forget it.


I’m scared of me, you, us–everything and nothing.

Tell me, you say.

Hold me, I say.

I’m scared of falling.

Falling, falling, falling into endlessness.


Catch me, I say as I

Fall into your arms.

Not understanding this fear that

Envelops me,

Surrounds me,

Suffocates me sometimes.

I don’t understand it, so

How can I expect you to?


I fall, once again into your arms.

Falling, falling, falling

Into the fear that is

Nothing and everything and



First Draft January 2000/Revisited May 2013


Notes: I’m not super thrilled with this poem. I’m happy with the overall themes running through it, but not sure if it needs to be broken down into a few smaller poems or if it works as a longer one. I thought I’d throw it up here though as an example of how the creative process works–at least how it works for me. I think it’s good for me to realize that not everything on this blog has to be perfect. If that were the case, there would be nothing up here. I already find myself editing, re-editing. Which is okay, as long as I don’t get hung up on that elusive quest for perfection. While researching for an undergraduate paper years ago, I stumbled across an article about the correlation between perfectionists, procrastinators and eating disorders.  Since I have fallen (there’s that word again, fallen, as though I have no say in my life) into all of these categories at some point in my life I found it very interesting. It didn’t really have anything to do with the paper I was writing, but I xeroxed it and read it and re-read it, feeling that it somehow validated who I was a person, student, and scholar. Now, I’ve really veered off course regarding my original intent. At any rate, this is a poem that I feel is helping me work through the ‘re’s in my creative process–repeat, reflect, reject, revise.


4 thoughts on “Untitled–A Poem in Progress

  1. I love the rhythm of this one – at least at the beginning. If you re-work it I’d think about how you might maintain that throughout or spring another rhythm at the end – bang!


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