Hesitance

I keep telling myself
that it's okay to be confused,
to want and not want things
simultaneously,
to want and not want you,
together.
Hesitance is a limb
that I cannot cut off.
I am afraid I would wake up
in the early morning,
while the world is painting
itself back to life again,
and look at you and find you
foreign,
find you unfound
by me.
I would pack my bags
and run for the hills
because I am never sure
of anything or anyone.
I am never sure of
even myself.
I am turbulent.
I don't know where to start
and where to end.
I am still figuring myself out
like a newborn
testing his hands' mobility.
And I am sorry and not sorry,
together.
But I am turbulent and
my turbulence is a sea
and I keep forgetting
that I cannot swim.

— Artwork by Anan Raafat

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