ROAR

 

ROAR

Driving down these familiar roads,
my hand empty, no one to hold.
The question lingers like a heavy fog:
where is our end—
is this the road's quiet close? I've been so cautious, treading lightly,
afraid to voice the truth to you.
Your inconsistency, your fleeting warmth,
your sudden chill, confuses and cuts me,
a restless tide that shifts without warning. Terrified to speak, though I know I must,
I dread losing the fragile thread we share—
the intermittent joy of your laughter,
the tender weight of your fleeting kisses,
moments that flicker like stars through clouds. It feels like a lose-lose bind,
a maze with no clear way out (for me, at least).
Apprehensive, I brace for the ache,
my heart threatening to tear clean in two,
flapping wildly in the relentless gale,
like a tattered flag caught in the storm’s fierce roar.