I could never stop thinking about how things will end long enough to even let them begin.
Every time I climbed through the hole in your fence, I couldn't stop thinking of how I would feel on the day I stop trying to squeeze through.
I could never kiss you, run my fingers across your skin, tangle my body in yours without wondering if that's the last time I ever will.
I'm sorry I couldn't look at you without seeing the past.
I'm sorry I've gotten so scared of being left that I don't know how to stay anymore.