I never quite mastered that one syllable word.
Why is it so hard?
I can say things like “ameliorate,” and “cacophony.” I can write poems and plays and short stories. I can digest literature in various forms from various time periods and from a multitude of cultures and perspectives.
Commanding words is my life. It is how I move from page to page of this existence.
Yet one word sticks in my throat like peanut butter on a hot day.
Because I have yet to conquer that one lingering fear, that one monster in my closet, that one wild beast living under my bed. My boogie man is rejection. Or at least, what I perceive as rejection. [READ MORE]