I would not take up your light if I knew that I was burning dim. Knowing what I’d leave behind is a curse I’d gladly take again over—

Hold it behind my back. Balled up in a tight fist and pressed into hairline cracks. Let it hold me until this ends. The air is settling. Wanting for nothing more than to sever the anchor. I sink into the floor when I try and remember where you should be. Still reeling from the way you left us bargaining truth and consequences. Hoping to climb we just stepped to the side. “It’s coming for me.” The air is settling where you should be.