The thoughts in my eyes
Fastened on the back
Of the figure across the room,
Alone, surrounded by four
Empty chairs.

There was nothing stopping me
From walking over--

I had so many questions,
Filling up the ears in my head--
But they would never be voiced
Aloud, and never to the one
I needed to hear them.

I was rooted in my seat,
My pencil gouging bruises
In my hand, growing limp
And numb along with my heart,
When I realized I lacked the
Courage to face someone

I had every reason to trust.

Was it the silence to my prayers
That kept me seated?

Or was it a selfish hindrance,
An answer I formed myself
Out of fear?