The Sleepless Night of Imposter Syndrome

Who the hell do I think I am
A writer, so called 
Because I don’t know
What else to be 
An indie author 
Who hasn’t authored 
Something truly new 
In more years 
Than I’d care to count 
A blogger 
Chock full of nonsense 
Obscure film reviews 
Rarely a short story 
Between a smattering of poems   
A poet 
One collection 
Almost a decade old 
Dust covered half-blind words 
Shaken off 
Blown clean 
For fresh ears 
New eyes 
Different minds 
Deciding my fate 
Don’t say they’ll love me 
Stroking my ego 
So it won’t crack 
Splintering 
Shattering 
Into dark reflections 
Of self doubt and hate 
I need to refract 
Redirect 
Swirling thoughts 
Forming them 
Reshaping them 
With a spoonful of delusion 
A survival technique 
So I may step 
Center stage 
Metaphorical spotlight 
Temporarily 
Blinding and enhancing 
My remaining sight 

~~~~~~~~~~~~
2026, John L. Harmon 

______________
Woke up way too early and I couldn’t fall back asleep.  Wild and terrified thoughts running rampant, so I had to rein them in.

Freak Out, 
JLH 

P.S. I’m excited, and obviously, a bit nervous about the upcoming Homegrown Traveling Series poetry event, happening on September 5th in Chadron, Nebraska.  I’ll be reading a few selections from VISION BENT (half-blind poems)…