Courage of My Lips

Make your words count.

That’s what they tell us day in and day out.

Somehow, I think I’ve taken this a little too far.

I overthink what I want to say to the point where

The time for saying it has passed.

Often, I have to write or type it out and send it.

The anxiety I have while waiting for a response

Is about the same as it would be waiting for it in person.

However, the comfort level in the words I write is higher.

I’ve been able to see exactly what I want to say,

Change it, make the words mean what I mean,

Hopefully without causing injury to the target of my words.

My courage fades many times in face-to-face conversation,

Which is ironic in a way because I want to work

In a place that requires public speaking skills

And yet I have very little.

But I’m trying.

I’m pushing myself to do better, to be better.

At my part-time job, I do my best to make eye contact.

I put myself out there. 

I may be uncomfortable, but in order to get comfortable,

You must start with the awkward hellos.

Embarrassment is one of my many teachers,

Patience, gratitude, and perseverance are some of the tests.

Sometimes, I sit in the silence, but my head won’t stop the noise.

Much of it is caused by the ghosts of my regrets.

This haunting needs to stop, and I will part ways with them.

I will start eliminating their presence one by one,

And it will all begin with the courage of my lips.


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