Carefully Woven

It’s woven into the fibre of my being 

to expect tragedy. 

Even in the wake of the good things

my mind is plagued by 

the thought of what could be.

This element of fear shadows my every move.

It sticks itself onto every surface and

forces itself into every groove.

But I’m learning to let go and let be.

I’m trying to remind myself that my spirit is of a sound mind

and of power, love, self control;

and that it is not drive by fear -

not of the unknown,

not of the probability of tragedy.

-stillbleu

This poem is about: 
Me

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