Slammin'

I am afraid.

Afraid of your faces
and the ears on them.

Hearing my words
stumbling to you.
When I wish they
were swimming.

Perhaps carelessly
or pointlessly or in an
awkward back-stroke.
But swimming nonetheless.

How can I face you?
How can I risk offending my
sensibilities and dreams?
But more--how can I speak to
you as if I know something,
anything, worth sharing?

You...
You architects of language
You builders of words
You masters of the rhythm and rhyme

Am I screeching as I speak?
Will you groan and moan
and ask the doorman why
he let me in?

Or will you forgive me
my insecurities and be
warm to my bravery?

Will you cheer me on
as I face a fear that
is filled with hope
and need and desire
and wishes and dreams
and goals and bruises
from long ago?
I am afraid.

So do not amuse me
but do not abuse me.

For I will return and
be stronger soon.
With more to share
and more to bare
but less to hold
and less to bear.

I am less afraid.