I like to believe that I’m stronger than most,
But lately, I’m afraid of my own thoughts
And what I can do with them
I’m afraid of your words,
And the opinions that continue to tear apart the words that held us together
I like to believe you care,
But what if we are just users in a game that we both play too well
What if, we were meant to end months ago
But we didn’t. Because I love you.
Does that make it my fault?
I’m afraid of waking up one morning with air weighing down the other pillow,
That I knew that is exactly where the wind should blow.
I’m afraid that I’ll walk down the stairs and your face will graze my memories,
I’ll wonder what you’re doing.
I’ll know I no longer have the right to ask.
And it is the little things I’ll miss that scare me:
It is everything I’ll miss that scares me.
It’s interesting isn’t it, how at one time you can be there and the next you are just dust
Dust that collects on 22nd street or the hot tub where we first kissed.
Dust that collects on laughter and memories and the broken strings between your heart.
I wish I could see you standing at the top of the stairwell
Knowing we were both meant to end at the top.
I’m afraid that too much of you is now a part of me
That the key has been molded to fit your lock
I wish time would stop.
Just for a moment. Just with you.
Just so I had enough time to cherish it, so I wasn’t always tripping on the the questions I couldn’t answer.
I’m afraid I’m never right anymore, which is saying a lot
That the things I thought whole are suddenly broken
I’m scared of caring about you too much
And being forgotten
Most of all, I’m afraid of the pain that will strike after the shock has warn off
It’s a dull pain, up until it isn’t
And when it isn’t, it feels like you’re falling apart piece by piece
Like your heart has been replaced with cement and your stomach has been replaced with everything except the feeling of being there
I’m afraid of hurting you, of being a broken puzzle that someone dropped all the pieces to
Left them in spilled cups of coffee or in between the covers
We used to love between those covers
We used to be more than just renters between the sheets
We used to be more than depressing poetry or old photographs
We used to be more than wounded
I’m afraid one day I’ll be strong enough to know the right decision
Which is the scariest feeling of all