Writing (again)

I am afraid to write.

I fear introspection, I fear insight.
What joy is there, in insight?

Ignorance is bliss, they say.
They are wrong, of course.

But insight is cruel.

Is that what I am, truly?
It cannot be.
And I cannot unsee.
But I will do the next worst thing.

Let me battle, thrash,
Clutch at my skull, dash the thoughts to death
Beg my thoughts for peace.

Let me slowly forget what I saw.

Let me never, ever, write again.


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