Not over yet

Back in June, I read a poem at the Nuyorican Poet's Cafe's open mike. It was the one in my blog called "Leaving the Battlefield." There were a few revisions I made, but ultimately it stayed the same.

I didn't want to do it, mostly out of fear. And since fear is something in my life I wish to--if not eliminate--learn to see past and through, I felt like I had to do it if only to see what exactly I am afraid of.

When I did it, I realized how much I enjoy communicating with others. It doesn't matter if people agree with me or not--all I feel is important is that I'm at least heard. And last night, I was. It wasn't that bad--there weren't that many people there, which was a lot easier to manage mentally, everyone was mad supportive and the two drinks I had certainly helped. So I did it, and was like, "Whew! Great! Now I can say I did it! I'm free! I'm off the hook!"

"You mean you AREN'T going to perform those other poems you're already thinking about performing?" my Self whispers seemingly out of no where.

I sigh, partly out of exhaustion, partly out of fear, and partly out of relief. I guess it's not over yet . .