Encasing Her

She can sense the coolness of
The grass through her shirt,  
While orange swirls of light  
Float before her eyes.
The sounds of the gentle water  
Do nothing to stop the internal whispers  
From encasing her in doubt.  
Doubt in herself,  
In her writing.  
The confidence she has  
Melts away like a fog  
In the morning light.  
She quietly asks,  
"Why do I do this?"  
"Why do I kick at shadows?"  
"Why do I overthink?"  
She opens her eyes  
And stares at the burning  
Piece of paper,  
Her latest unworthy creation,  
All the while thinking  
That this needs to end.  
This needs to end.