Time counts on as

the rain trickles down from

the blocked up gutters.

I wonder if you think of me during the day.

Do I really mean as much to you as you do to me?

I worry that

you will move on from me,

leave me as just a

memory. The place I filled taken up by someone

new, someone better than me, more than me, closer than me.

Am I enough?

I can’t tell what’s real and

what’s just in my head.

Depression or distance? Am I just letting my

anxiety get away with my imagination

again? Have I

driven you away yet?


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