I went to a poetry reading the other day and had a very awkward conversation afterwards. This poem helped me process my embarrassment.

Awkward

After reading my poetry my heart was a mess.

Wildly beating like I was under duress.

And since getting sober I tend to avoid

Consuming things that make me paranoid.

For the love of our muses ❤️

I didn’t ask for this- these feelings right out of the gate.

But now that they’re here, I long to create.

The thought of you and poetry stirs,

Tender lines of prose, such passionate words.

Pictures in my mind I’d put down on page,

I am love. I am grace.

I am the brilliant smile on your face.

I am radiance. I am delight.

I am sunshine, warm and bright.

I am hope. I am knowing.

I am a blooming flower still growing.

How often do you let Joy in when she comes knocking? Here's a poem about that...

Hello, Joy. It’s nice to meet you. Looks like you found a way to my door.

Funny, it feels like... Have we met before?

Were we kids together? Or perhaps something more?

I know, I just know we’ve met here before.

But now you must go, for I haven’t the room

Couldn't sleep- too busy having a breakdown. Here's what came of it:

Uncertainty is loss, certainty is the key

If I am not certain, what is there for me?

This feels like chaos, no stability

What is my problem with possibility?

I’d rather convince myself of a lie

My latest creation. I’ll have another in a couple of weeks. 😄🎨