Fearing simple nothings,
uncertain and already fretting,
about things that may
or may not come to pass.

Did I say something wrong?
Or speak out of turn?
Unknowing and willing
to let my mind accentuate
far-flung ideas.

Picking up on hints,
which don't exist and,
indecisive, do nothing,
and tell myself that,
nothing is worse than
something, but can't choose.

The End

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