We were just sitting around, (actually, I was there only to 'fix' my sister's forever neglected computer, but that's a whole new story within itself) and my nephew popped up with, "Lisa, when are you going to publish all those poems you keep wasting your time with?" Up until that very moment, the conversation was flowing right along, but then, the air grew real thick and I felt as though I was being air-lifted from my body, almost like maybe an out-of-body experience was occurring. Suddenly I couldn't breath, and my heart started pounding, and tears came to my eyes, because I was then put on the spot for a reasonable answer to 'the subject' that I have managed to escape from for many years without facing it head on. It was that very moment that I realized, it was because I'm scared to death of failure.
 I've read all the horror stories of the poets that have published and spent year after year writing, then their ultimate dream finally came to reality, and that was seeing their work in published form, and then the only copies sold were to their family members that bought them simply because they felt obligated, but then after that, nobody else ever again bought the book.
  That scenario absolutely scares me to death! There are no words in my vocabulary to describe how devastating that nightmare would be for me to over-come, and I'm not so sure that I could or would. The mountain of dreams would essentially crumble and bury me beneath the rubble of failure, and I know me, better than anybody else does...and I know that I would not even try to dig my way out. I would die right then and there, along with every word that I'd ever written.
  I am not disciplined, not in the way I write nor in any aspect of my life as far as that goes. I write on a whim, I do everything in my life, hanging on the edge of a bottomless pit, daring myself to let go, and knowing damn well I'm not going to. Hell, I've read things a week after I wrote them, and my first thoughts are.."What were you thinking? "That makes no sense at all!"
  Yeah, I know..we are our own worst critiques. Well, I don't think that is really true either. I honestly believe it is nothing more than a blatant lack of self-confidence, but no matter what it is..I'm scared of it, and I just can't move past it. 
  So I looked my nephew right in the eye, and with a growl in my voice, I told him..well you know you actually answered that question when you asked it. I disected his question and handed it back to him, carefully picking out the one word in it that pounded it's way into my mind....the word...'wasting'. I said, "Why would anybody want to spend their hard-earned money on waste?" 
  Not another word was spoken on the subject and I left there knowing I'd managed to dodge the bullet once more. Which seems to be the only thing, I've the confidence to be good at! (except time after time going back and fixing my sister's neglected computer..which really doesn't bother me at all.)
  Maybe some day...just not today.

Lisa