Monkey Bars

I have always been afraid of being straight with myself,
looking fear in the eye and letting everything go.
I make excuses by the thousands, endless strands of reasons why
I shouldn't even hope to try.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm satisfied with being self-excused.
I see my inner core of truth and the illusion...
I say that I'm afraid of letting go of the high, but then I wonder --
have I swung from rung to rung or have I always been right here,
securely clinging to the one?

I know I'm scared of being open, kissing tenderly, and laughing.
I just can't let these things happen as they naturally would.
I fear spontaneous moments and involuntary actions
like knee-jerk reactions, the hiccups and hunger pangs
sinking their fangs into my delicate skin.

The more I think of it, the more I see these obstacles appear --
as bouncing checks and bouncing babies, ticking clocks,
unwinding dreams and counting backwards from ten,
a rash of Mobius trails and doing over again --
so many fears I've had before
but somehow managed to leave --

So isn't everthing a choice of what I want to believe?