On The Mend


I can't let go.

My hands are trembling as I type. If it means anything , I don't want to look fragile, truncated or misplaced because I know that's not the kind of guy you hope to see in me. I've been struggling to keep from shattering. I haven't spent the past few days and nights just feeling sorry or just disgesting the fact that I am an idiot. All I seek is solace and redemption.

Then, maybe it just wasn't enough.

But still, I want to prove to you that I can and will change.

You told me a hiatus would do us good. I try to comprehend. I take a step back. I try holding my breath. In time, perhaps with earnest, we might still be able to carry out our plans. Enough for now you said. Stubborn I may have been but thus far I have kept behind the line. But I will not budge nor will I fade away. I tread softly.

And I won't let go. I can't.