the art of revision

i hate waiting for my comp results
sometimes i am ok with the pressure and
i attempt, in part, to write out a place
within myself that gives me a certain amount
of peace
because, i am really trying hard not to
narrate a worse case scenario

but still....

at the most odd times,
driving around town running errands, etc.
i'll get a flash of panic
and i think...omg, i've failed
everything that i have been working on
for the past four years is insubstantial...my scholarship has been built
with cards...flimsy, unstable
and then this moment goes away as quickly
as it came
leaving me tired...and scared...and depressed
imprinting a question mark on my brain
'am i a sham?'
'do i know what i'm really talking/writing about?'


this drives me crazy

at other times i think
i answered the questions the best way
that i knew how...
i was careful
i tried to be precise or at least
i thought that i was and sometimes
this is reassuring

but then the panic flashes again
like heat lightening or
an intense moment in a movie
where the villain jumps out of a corner
grabbing the unaware protagonist
and then i start narrating again

i narrate a future that is dismal
and ornamented with failure
i stop this writing
and begin again
i revise
i delete paragraphs and phrases
and i attempt to add a more healing prose
a prose that is comforting EVEN if
my worst fear materializes out of thin air
or from some dark corner
my revisions tell me to breathe
to be present
to close my eyes and most importantly
to remind me
to keep taking my meds