on being a shy poet

since my 20’s are far behind me, i figured that my high school self was too. it wasn’t until a friend was talking to a friend who had worked with me at a volunteer function that i realized that i am still every bit “that girl that didn’t talk at all the whole time” (my friend knew it was me right away). and though i’d like to say i’m not shy and that years of critique and workshopping has left me with thick skin, i’m stereotypically the sensitive poet. i can’t watch the news (at all) because it disturbs me too much (nightmares). i can’t read a good many books or watch certain movies. if i get together with another melancholy temperament, the conversation spirals into nihilistic hopelessness. its one of those things built into my nature that i need to keep taking to the cross (not so much the shyness or sensitivity, but the hopelessness–we are an easter people, not a people without hope). all to say, you are born who you are i suppose


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