Greatest fear

By Joyce Job

I'm scared of me,

My dreams so wild

My energy so reckless

My thirst so addictive.

 

I' scared of me,

my slippery tongue,

my fuming anger,

my fidgeting hands

lest I break things

worse I break hearts

worst I break people.

 

I'm scared of me,

my vivid limitations,

my vague aspirations.

I want to be a Mother Theresa

But I know

There is also a Hitler in me

and he is not alone.

 

I'm scared of me,

my bitter jealousies,

my sugar coated possessiveness,

my spicy selfishness,

my airy ego.

What if I burn my mask of pretences?

Will I like the real rotten face?

 

I'm scared of me,

my love for power,

my ease with choices,

but above all

my cowardice with fears.

I'm scared of what they want me to be.

I'm scared knowing I can be anything I want to be.

 

But I want to be different

In this world of moulds and standards,

In this world of success and fame,

In this world of prejudice and hatred

 

I want to be nothing like them,

the world.

I want to be the good in me

and I want the evil in me to sleep undisturbed,

to die even,

knowing

that part of me will never be needed,

never be invited,

never be loved,

never be pampered.

 

I don't want to be anything but me

'Coz I don't know anybody else's moves,

dialogues or acts.

But I'm scared they might convince me

to be somebody else

and that I might fall again

like  that one time I fell flat and loud, bruised myself and stood up again.

 

What if I fall again?

Will the good in me still survive?

Or will I become like the world

blood shot, shrewd, cunning

contemplating every move and every glance

throwing love and affection to the dice of time

as pawns in this never ending  cubes of a cruel chess board,

to be and not to be?