In these deeper nights
our breaths are short
for each moment becomes longer
in just an instant,
you think of them.
You remember what was
and what didn't become.
So you let a tear escape your eyes
down to your cheeks
while it seems like you can see yourself
curled up in a blanket,
face half-stuffed in a pillow,
and staggered breaths.
Sad heart.
Sad history.
It's unfair when you feel it's only you
who needs to feel the need to move on
to actually do
from something that was never given the generosity of acknowledgement.
You wipe your tear and sleep.
Hopefully.
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