dealing with it

i am stuck
somewhere beneath the haze of
unfettered belief, the diagnostic release:
that final breath of understanding
as you hold back the tears and think
"this is it, this is an answer"
even if it is not the answer, even if, even if

your grey and squinty and fading eyes
don't linger on me much these days
maybe because i'm not looking for them
or can't; or maybe because it's true
we've changed
(indisputable, everything changes all the time)
and the shame i feel now is just the shame
of not trusting myself
enough to trust myself
when i feel unloved.