Poem: Little Tiny Bubbles

I am scared
I’m becoming mediocre
of being mediocre
it’s not who I am
but it’s who I feel I’m being

Living to so few
of the expectations
I have of myself

Living instead
to the expectations
of everyone else
of the world at large

That wants me to be good
but not great… just good
they call it “good enough’
They do this a lot

and in actuality
they want me to be great
but they are scared
because it means
that I must change
that I will be someone different
that I may no longer be there
to help them
to be there for them
and that scares them

So I’m living to their fears
and holding fast to my own
afraid I don’t have what it takes
afraid I never did
letting my dreams fizzle
little tiny bubbles
popping into oblivion
often – daily even
feeling I’m running out
of fizziness altogether
and becoming flat

I have lost my why…
no, I have lost my belief
in my ability to get my why
I have lost my belief
that pursuing my why even matters

I want to always have the option
but that means nothing
it’s nothing concrete
and serves no one

What is my passion?
What will I jump out of bed to do?
What will I fight sleep to love working on?
Why do I feel so lost?
How can I be found?

Why do I still not have the answers to these questions?

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