A blank slate,
this journal, this commitment
to write a bit each day.
this journal, this commitment
to write a bit each day.
A source of trepidation,
the obligation, the promise,
the obligation, the promise,
to look honestly at me,
at my fears, my pride, my anger,
my failure, my hopes and dreams.
at my fears, my pride, my anger,
my failure, my hopes and dreams.
How can page after page of nothing
strike terror in my heart?
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