While I have dreams of seeing them in print,
I’m hoarding poems.
Publishing them online scares me.
What if I want to submit them
to that lit mag I read once?
What if someone I know reads them
and sees more than I want them to?
If you fold a piece of paper
one hundred and three times,
it will be the size
of the known universe.
I think I’ve got that many poems
written down and hiding in
notebooks, boxes and jump drives.
If I hoard them all, they’ll
never see the light of day again,
never share my secrets,
never cross an editor’s desk.