I could see you on other side of the chasm.
It's the first time I've seen you in a long time.
The first time I saw you without turning away, afraid to look, afraid to be looked at.
I wasn't afraid to touch you again.
I had to cross the chasm, there was a beam leading across the gap.
I shuffled onto the beam, hopeful, I made it halfway through.
But then I remembered you, I remembered what you did to me.
I remembered.
And I doubted.
And I stumbled.
I looked down to reset, to make sure of my footing.
But I was not sure.
And when I looked again, you were gone.

YOU ARE READING
Sometimes I Write Poems, Sometimes I Write Songs
RandomA collection of everything I've written to be posted on theprose.com. Between short stories and poetry, I think too much.