I sit, placed as you are,
I sit, placed as you are,
In my own space.
In part known,
To myself
And those who love me,
But hidden from the world
By a veil of secrets.
These have been drawn
As self protection
And formulated
To keep the fear
Of self disclosure
Within control,
Exposed in measured units.
Never fully opening
The door
To the true nature
Of the internalised inertia,
Thinly distributed self belief,
Well disguised indecision
And fear of failure,
Which in certain circumstances
Can be a boon.
When I feel threatened
Or reasonably confident
It can push me to compete.
Although it rarely lasts,
And all too easily,
Like a wet blanket
The weight of expectation
Draped around my shoulders
Begins to drag me down.
It pulls my head
Beneath the surface
Until I all but drown
In a sea of pessimism.
Saved only by a roughly hewn
Personal life raft
Of homespun
Philosophy and optimism,
Which somehow keeps me afloat
Through the worst of times.
And just as do you,
I often find
Myself on the outside,
Looking in.
An observer of self and others
Which some might see
As an admission of cowardice,
But for me
Any foray into a public arena
Is as dangerous
As standing for election
And in the end
What sane person
Would choose to opt
For that particular blend
Of hubris, artifice
And public immolation.
I know I am at the centre
Of a world of my own making,
As are we all,
And yet I also stand
On a narrow ledge,
At the very edge of life.
Both integral to its unfolding
And naught but a bystander
As life’s full circle turns,
With me at its hub.
Whilst at this
One and the same time
I am at its furthest point,
Both the beginning and
The end of its circumference.
Drifting in diametric opposition
And perfect isolation.
A tangential anomaly
At the end of my rope
Hoping, against hope,
Observing the play of life
And the stretch of eternity
Through the gauze of self-detachment
A distant,
Self interested paradox.
A free spirit locked in a box
With the key and the tether .
Both alone
And yet,
Still together.