Pockets Full Of Doubt

I’m not sure I have much left to say, my dear

    I fear I’ve run dry of poetry and tears

I blew out the candles, wishing for fifty years 

     While you wished to be free from me 

So here we are

    The last light from a dying star

You and me 

     The last days of a flame

     The last of the trickling sand in the hour glass

      The last seconds of us

And as you fade away

    And our love fizzles out

       We will be left with pockets full of doubt

Did we try hard enough?

Did we trust in us?

Did we let go too soon?

Are we letting the wrong person walk out of our lives?

. . . Did we, babe?

Are we letting the wrong person fade away?

Are we wasting our days playing a game so we can avoid the pain?

Are we distracting ourselves from our share of the blame?

Are we throwing away the little time we have to spend together?

Do we belong together?

. . .

I miss you

I miss you so much

I just don’t know how to trust

Not now

Not after all of this . . .

I want to

I really do

I’m just . . . scared of you. 

CH 1/6/26