She held her breath
And held her breath
And thought of him,
Left to gasp
For the thick, heavy air—
Air that sat still
Between them.

The short distance,
Within minutes,
But hours,
Days,
Weeks,
So far apart
From where we were,
Where we are,
Who you were.

I don’t know,
But you’re holding all
These pieces of the
Heart that I had taken
All of this time to piece back,
Back together.

And you hold it
In a scummy pawn shop,
Collecting the interest,
The interest I scrape together,
Just enough
To keep you holding them—
On a shelf in the clutter
Of your garage,
Mixed with everything you
Hold onto to discard
But can’t seem to part with.

She’s got your heart
With so much disdain,
Silencing your pain,
The subtle breaks
Behind music and sound
That drown the cracking out—
Like you did with me.

Still, I paint,
And in my visions,
On this blank canvas,
You’re all I see.

So I hold my breath
And gasp to breathe.

Let me go.
Let me free.