Creative fear

It waits in the wings,

not with teeth, but with silence.

A breath held too long

before the first word dares to arrive.

It is the echo

of everything you might ruin—

or worse,

the possibility you won't matter at all.

Your fingers twitch above the page

as if the pen might bite.

Blankness stares back,

its stillness louder than any scream.

You imagine a masterpiece

that collapses under your gaze.

You imagine failure

wearing your face.

Still,

you shape the silence

into something that breathes.

Even fear,

when named,

becomes a beginning.

It’s day 19 of my 30 day challenge to post 100 articles in 30 days and this is article 26, I’m behind on this challenge but I’m determined to complete it before the 30 day mark.

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