Maybe it’s me.
Maybe I’m wrong.
Maybe I cannot be.
What do I change?
How will I break?
Maybe I’ll fall down
on my knees.
Maybe I’ll plead.
Maybe I’ll beg.
Maybe the tears
will run down my face.
Maybe I’ll die.
Maybe I’ll cry.
Maybe I’ll bleed
into my hands. . .

© Johanna Fugitt 2017