Greatest fear

I’m scared of me,
My dreams so wild
My energy so reckless
My thirst so addictive.

I’m 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,
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?

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