Eyes glazed over with tears that want to fall,
I gaze into a distance far beyond.
An undiagnosed crack in the heart
Pushes air out from a diaphragm
That squeezes to keep just one breath alive,
For that might be all I have left
To hang onto a life I don't want.
I sniff what wants to drip from my nose--
Swiftly silencing the wails that are
waiting to break free.
"How much longer til this damn bus arrives?"
I ask myself, over and over again--
silently--hoping my frigid pacing would
quicken the time.
"Is this what losing feels like?"
I whine internally.
"It's better to have loved and lost
than never to have loved at all,"
But these aches in my neck
from a long day's journey disagree.
If I had never loved,
I'd have never lost.
"You don't like to lose,"
my therapist remarked.
Crudely, she'd told me about myself
some weeks ago as I soaked her couch
with my tears.
And now, I reflect on the risks I took--
Just to say, "I won."
Just to say, "I love you."
Just to say, "I'm loved."
I'm first in line at the bus station,
waiting to pick a window seat
so that I can cry in peace--
so that I can curl next to
a giant, translucent screen and
watch it fog up as I
release hot air from between unkissed lips.
I never wanted perfection.
I just wanted to never think, "What if?"
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