Charles.

my days
they are a collaboration of fears.
nothing more.
thy are at their basses
patched up fear.
school
and my grades and the sciences
I was told I would be brilliant at
and here I am
sinking
at the bottom
of my chair.
my books
that lie heavy
upon one another
I am afraid of them
they stare at me
like I were parasited
that dare not touch them.
I spend my days in fear
planing and replaning my limited time
what have I done today?
have I waisted more hours
in hot showers]trying to figure out
what the topic
of my next
unread mediocre poem
that eventually falls back
to the same basses
my fear.
watching documentaries about poets
absorbing them and engulfing them than radiating them
instead of stopping to listen to what they are actually saying.
do not be afraid
do not plaster intellect.
you are
intellect.
stand
and self reflect
fear
is afraid
of self reflection.