self doubt rears her ugly head
when the butterflies turn to pangs of fear
the inner turmoil takes the lead
heat rising from deep within the belly
instead of the warmth of happiness
embers burning fierce with worry
what if it’s all a dream?
what if it’s going to fade?
what if it’s too good to be true?
the what if’s are the demise of all good things
the tone of voice
the moments of silence creeping in
the simple inquisitive questions filled with fear for your answers
you know better than to let it get the best of you
yet you still entertain the ideas
your imagination runs wild, when it should be tamed
you must soothe your weary soul
over things you have no control