Withering Doubt

Love, just like poetry, is often complicated.

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Doubt hangs in the balance
Threatening to snap
The tiny tethers of my resolve
As I try to adapt
To something beyond scraps
Of burgeoning affection

Intangible targets
Hover in my periphery
A siren song of anxiety
As I stare into your eyes
Praying that you’ll quiet
The cacophony.

And then you hug me
Until doubt withers away

I know I haven’t been around. My poetic muse has been elsewhere, so I’ve been focused on prose. When I couldn’t sleep last night because stanza two was fighting to come out, I was pleasantly surprised. Who knows how long she will stick around for, but if you are interested in finding out what I’m working on, feel free to check out my website and subscribe to my monthly newsletter.

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The Power of Poetry