This Spine of Mine

The lingering of a hopeful heart
Tingles in my spine
As if the impossible has a fighting chance
All from a glance of past romance
So is it impossible at that?
Or was it the realist in me who shuts the door?
And thumbs circle one another in thought and the phrase "you'll never know until you try" hovers my head along with the rain clouds and sunshine
Where do we draw the line of not wanting to know anymore?
And who dares say that I didn't try?!
As clear as July skies, I jumped in with both feet and if effort were rewarded then I'd be rich with recognition
But dreams are dreams for that particular reason.
And the tingle jolts me another thought,
"is that which I want truly what I want?"
For it's been some time since real was real
and it's been some time since my imagination has rebuilt; made over and captured a moment when perfection ruled. But did it ever really?
Like a post card from paradise showing a beach all dolled up, infesting my memory like a coat of sugar.
"Never again!" I shout as I stand in that rainy beach;
the post card image I should have remembered.
And I nod and smile, bitterly and sweetly
Respectively
Is the opportunity I seek more for closure?
Cause there are days when I know I'm better off.
Yet, the tingle in my spine whispers,
"you'll never know until you know."
But would I know if I knew?
Is this time 'round suppose to be new?
Through and through, the risks you make are equal to the risks you don't take
It's not about whether it's worth it or not.
It's whether I can deal with the consequences.
The very contemplation sways me to believe that deep down I'm reluctant to venture forth.
Yet still it tingles., this spine of mine.