Seventeen.

Sometimes,
when I'm at my worst,
I dream about running
away, about taking a
chance on the only thing
I've ever loved to do.

But I never get
close enough to leaving
before the worry kicks in -
I have a pretty sweet deal here,
what happens after I give it
all up for possible failure?

It's like my body freezes
and I tell myself I wouldn't
succeed anyway, that I don't
even know how,
but isn't life about scaring
yourself to live bigger?

I just haven't reached that
point yet, there one where I'm
willing to give it all up
for uncertainty,
I'm not desperate enough,
yet, but I'm getting there.