Smooth-Roasted Doubt

I can doubt and doubt
And doubt and doubt myself
Into oblivion
Until I can hardly look you in the eyes
Until I can hardly pass by you
And why?
What am I afraid of?
But it's the doubting
That holds me back
Nearly every single time.
It's not just you.
In fact, it's hardly you at all.
Who are you anyway?
I know your first name
And not much else.
You are
Merely
The metaphor
For the rest of my life,
Aren't you?
It almost seems symbolic,
So I want to handle this properly.
If I take one tiny step forward,
Will the world really change?
The pencil in my hand
Is poised spiritedly over the page.
And yet...