The Fallen Leaf

I swear I tried my best
(my best wasn't much, it seems)

But I swear I fucking tried
(for a good five minutes, at least)

No, but listen, listen; it was magical, like sinking water lilies and corn-chip dust
(The water lily that sunk! From corn-chip to dust!)

Do you see it now? The fallen leaf 
(who was it that decided I was a leaf, again?)

And I swear, it tasted like honeyed almonds 
(and soy sauce?)

Yes, that doesn't sound all that appetizing, but I swear, it was delicious
(in its own way)

And if you made it this far 
(and you're wondering)

This is not a cautionary tale.

It's only just begun

Lately, I've been plagued with the feeling that something—some grand and life changing thing—was about to happen; like the momentary halt before crossing a road.

And even that, in its crippling anticipation, isn't all too bad.

It's that gnawing question, that nipping thought:

What if
there's nothing to come?

What if
this was all it would ever be?