Poetry

What Is Coming

“In the end, not knowing what will
come of me — of us — is killing me.”

Sometimes I think maybe my skin is the only thing keeping me together. Or maybe it’s the one thing holding me back from becoming who I’m supposed to be. Like a butterfly emerging from its protective chrysalis. Only I think it’s more of a madness than any kind of physical transformation. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not, but it scares me. Because in the end, not knowing what will come of me — of us — is what has me hesitating. The last thing I want or need is to be separated even further from you. So please, I beg you. Hold me together tonight and then we can face this tomorrow.

© Sarah Doughty

Like always, we do it together.

9 thoughts on “What Is Coming”

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