The Loneliest First Step is Also the Last

Burned up from a departure

to reenter a grounded state,

a safety net condensed into fragments

disintegrating.

A whisper of history;

the sweet nectar of memory

ensnares delicately,

betraying the sense of suffocating

by these invisible arms.

Billowing from the fan

spinning lazily in an empty room

washed over in the heat of desperation,

it’s heard reverberating:

“you’re safe if you break.”

I mistook phantom limbs as a trampoline.

A basin widens in a crash.

If I were to ever ask

would you put trust in ash,

an answer’s unrequired;

it lies in the fragments.

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