Inward Bound

I had a saxophone that I named my golden goose, but I sold it because I was afraid to play it for lack of privacy.

I used to tinker at the school’s lesson piano, but then realized that my peers whom I wanted to impress might be disuaded.

Singing is something I do passionately when the moment takes me – but then, in public, my throat closes to clenching.

I am too deep of an accomodator – an empath afraid to go further down on her luck.

There is a thin veneer that I rely upon, having had my barriers infiltrated and burned through.

But, if I had a man that believed in me, I wonder if there would even be limits to what I could do!

For I belirve it comes down to insecurity from not having solid ground to stand on.

When it is just me advocating for my dreams, it is safer to chameleonize and keep moving on.