Why do I do the things I do?
I never, never knew.
Why do I choose to stay silent?
Even when I have something to say
I don't say it.
I don't raise my hand with the answer to the question in fear I'll be wrong.
There is no answer.
I don't provide the advice people ask for because I don't know how to phrase it.
There is no way.
Jumping into random conversations I'm not really a part of like a wierd little grasshopper, an unwanted bug,
Not really in the middle of anything, just standing there,
Not really anywhere.
Fear is a leech, sucking the words away before they can leave my mouth,
Saving me from the judging responses to what I say, I tell myself.
It's a good thing my ideas are lost.
But at what cost?
Isolating myself from my friends,
All those who would actually tell me my ideas are good.
I cut myself off from the world by hiding behind my book.
Making myself an spectator of my own life,
watching it like a movie from behind a screen.
Like the sun behind a cloud, I am unseen.
Outside, there is no cloud covering that bright sun.
When I look at it, I realize there shouldn't be anything holding me back from talking to everyone,
I will share my ideas, take action, stand up, and attempt to climb new heights.
I will not let this fear, this dark storm cloud, beat me down.
I will smile, not frown.
I will live my life, not just watching the movie.
I will figure out who I am just by living,
And I will be the sun, shining bright through the fear.