Maybe I Will, Maybe I Won’t

And maybe one day

I’ll finally grow up—

stop running from shadows

I created myself,

stop pretending the chaos

doesn’t belong to me.

And maybe one day

I’ll quit messing up,

quit ruining the good things

before they ever get a chance

to feel real.

But maybe I won’t.

Maybe this is who I am—

a storm tied together

with shaky hands,

a pattern I keep repeating

even when I swear

I’m done with it.

Maybe I’ll just let you down,

the way I’ve let down

everyone who ever tried

to get close enough

to hold something

I could never name.

It’s not intention—

it’s gravity.

I fall the same way

every time:

hard,

crooked,

backwards into the dark

I thought I’d outrun.

And maybe one day

I’ll rise out of it—

but tonight,

I’m just trying not to drown

in the truth

that some parts of me

still cling to the wreckage

I should’ve left behind

long ago.