poking at the fire

i feel pretty safe
in my writers shell
and i keep all my thoughts close
that only my mind could tell.

i wanna try something different
something bolder and out of key
but i'm afraid what might
come out of me.

imagine that..
a petrified writer
with thoughts and words
and pizazz like knight rider.

but so afraid
of what the truth may say
so i bide upon the words
that others lay.

then i look at "e.b" (wink!)
who's so awesomely fearless
a bag full of thoughts and dreams
and it ain't even Christmas
(yet)

still, i keep everything hidden
in a place no one can reach
waters still, nothing's changed
like the golden sand on the beach.

yet i want to break open
this writer's shell
i want to share stories
that only my soul can tell

i want to feel free
to maximize my expression
but it's all trapped inside me
my curse is my blessing.