The Tailor's Doubt

The Tailor's Doubt written and performed by Ryan J. Tressel

The first time we prick ourselves, we never trust our hands again. Our thumb is like an errant lover who won’t say where he’s been. But we carry on, we pray that all our stitching holds out although even the best seams unravel at the tugging of a doubt. We push needle through cloth, pull thread ‘til it gives and this is the way we live. Things aren’t made to last forever; permanence is just a ruse a lie that is a comfort; two things we often confuse. Time is a villain, for certain. It eats away at us like a moth We don’t feel we can protect these things; so we never take them off. But still the damage is done, the tears and holes still show and this is the life we know. We’re damned by contentment, a word when misspelled is contempt. We were just following a pattern, we sewed like we knew what it meant. But still we are uncertain, we can’t believe it won’t hurt. So we stand at our stations, we hang as limp as sleeves on a shirt. But still doubt takes flight, it’s caught in our hearts like a wren, and we’ll never trust nothing again.