can get the best of me.
Quietly afraid,
of what I cannot see.

Going back
can feel like it is right.
Once you made me smile,
but now you are a trap.

Being wrong
could be the death of me,
in my head at least,
we end beautifully.

I think too much tonight
of you, of me–
nervousness is a trap.



Filed under poems

2 responses to “Nervousness

  1. I can see that. I don’t get nervous as much as I used to. I think it took a huge life event for me to understand that being nervous or worrying doesn’t change anything. You’re poetry is beautiful as usual.


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