Sudden Ambiguity

How many times have we stood in this exact spot?
How many times have I claimed that I was just doing it for the plot?
How many times have you paused a second too long before speaking your thoughts?
How many words should be said before the past is something we forgot?

How many versions of this moment exist in my mind?
How many were kinder, or braver, or perfectly timed?
How many ghosts of us linger in spaces we’ve crossed?
How many almosts until something is finally lost?

Whispers of words permanently left to play in my head
I remember all the times you left because you thought we were dead
Hanging on too tightly — the tension of a nearly frayed thread
In the silence, the only thing I hear clearly is the never-ending dread.

Flashbacks to the hundreds of nights asleep, tangled in sheets on your bed
I’m tired of listening for underlying clues in everything you leave unsaid
“Would you agree that I deserve someone who actively, actually wants me?”
A question you hesitated to answer — a secret truth that could set us free
“Yes, if that’s what you wanted.” Honesty wrapped in sudden ambiguity.

I think we’ll still be singing the same song by the time they read my eulogy,
Blurred boundaries we both learned to speak in too fluently,
And I’m tired of twisting my truth into something said suitably.
I’m starting to doubt there’s a way for this to end in what I once hoped was unity.
How many times do I have to put my sword down for you to choose not to leave?
Counting the seconds by the soft tic-tic-tic—will we let this blow up, or will we take a risk?