It's strange to think, I've dated…that I've been the object of someone else’s affection. But how affectionate must I have been in return? I must have trust issues...If I've never let anyone, family or friend, see poems or songs written by me.
I guess I'm afraid of their responses...good or bad.
Or I'm afraid of someone not understanding my words…or maybe understanding too well and by forever exposing my soul to someone else’s gaze.
I've grown so much and changed to little apparently.
Since I still don't let anyone see the real me...I thought it would be time to lay it all on the table (or blog). I'm not a great writer, at least it's what I think...but how would I know since I've never let anyone read these little tangents of mine.
I guess it's time, and I think it's the right time…I’d love feedback.
I guess I'm afraid of their responses...good or bad.
Or I'm afraid of someone not understanding my words…or maybe understanding too well and by forever exposing my soul to someone else’s gaze.
I've grown so much and changed to little apparently.
Since I still don't let anyone see the real me...I thought it would be time to lay it all on the table (or blog). I'm not a great writer, at least it's what I think...but how would I know since I've never let anyone read these little tangents of mine.
I guess it's time, and I think it's the right time…I’d love feedback.
