Why Do I Always Wax Poetic?

This is my blog and all I've done on it so far is write some rinky dink poetry. Which there is nothing wrong with, but that is not all that is in my heart. No, the things in my heart are often far from poetic unless that poetry is something out of Dante's "Inferno". I have come out of this place of constant poetic-ness, writing at least one grand thing down every day. I have quit journaling and find my life to be much more of a bore. I go from the day to day, working, thinking, praying, then move on and never remember any of it. That's the thing about writing, it helps one to remember. I don't remember scripture unless I write it down, I don't remember my prayers, even out of the deepness of my heart, real and true prayers unless I write them down. I wouldn't remember my own name unless I had been forced to write it down so many times. I can't chalk my current dry and droll situation up to not writing and leave it at that, but it is at least a part of the problem. Or perhaps a symptom of it. What if I don't write for a reason? Because I don't have anything to say, perhaps, because I don't know how to say whatever it is. What if, Lord forbid- I am afraid of it? What if I am afraid to see my heart in all it's nasty red gunk hearti-ness? Yes, no doubt this fear is the culprit. If I wrote down my true heart I would have to know about myself. Myself is not something I fancy being too familiar with at this present time. I would have to confess so many things. So much nasty me-ness. Lord, why can I not get past this mirror!?!?!?! I only want to see you, but all I can see is me in all of my human-ness. UGH! So I ignore myself. This has been my strategy so far. Try as I might I am always around myself though.
I have even said myself that Pretense cannot exist in the presence of Holiness. Holiness is the opposite of Pretense. They are at War. Holiness is the reality of life and all of the unbelievably true, the probable rather than the possible. Pretense is what we would like to be. It is our own private creation where we play God and thus it is our own private Hell. Like the Better than Life video game in Red Dwarf, try as we might, reality will always be better than whatever it is that we think we can do better than God. Lord, help me to confess! To come face to face with my reality! The word says that "the truth will set you free". How very.....true.
So then was it more true when I was poetic and daydreaming and flitting around in my own mind and heart and feeling? Is it more true now that I know my own salvation is by a thread, my self is wretched and I feel as if I have a dragon breathing down my neck?
I know that God's word says I am His. His Word says I am unsnatchably in His hand. His Word validates both times of truth, both times of me. Oh, Lord. Hindsight 20/20 is a curse. Why am I always wanting something more of my life, more of me? More of You? Why can I not just realize that I am here and You are here. I am wretched Lord, but You love the Wretched. I am so weak, but you love the Weak. I believe Lord, help my unbelief!