My Mentor

My mentor is slowly fading, cascading, 

into the wind of the sins of those who came before, and I always ask for more. Encore.  My mentor is fear: It persists with a mist that sits as if it were always here. It’s turned my life into a lifestyle, and that’s my life now.  I just keep wanting to move fast, as if my mentor was in the past, but what if I thought the brake was the gas? What if I crashed? What if these deep thoughts were my last? Let me take a pit stop and think! These thoughts are fleeting, retreating, just flowing down the sink.  But I’m good now, don’t give me the passenger. I want to keep driving and stop being a scavenger because how else am I supposed to reach my dream if all I’m doing is scouting, running out of steam? Let me take my potential and make it kinetic cause hard work out of fear is the aesthetic. I never let it be just cosmetic. It’s never just quick and painless, anesthetic. Not to be dramatic, but fear is what powers me. Fear puts me ahead, it lets me win, you’ll see. By the time you started looking for the locks, I already found the key.  So why is it that fear is always considered a weakness when I’m out here letting it empower me? It gives me uniqueness.  

This poem is about: 
Me
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