Breathing in Halves

Wrapping up the romance
that was never truly ours—
a story we wrote in half-measures,
left unread, unmarked,
its pages gathering dust
in the shadows of our hearts.

Still, I try to levitate
the desperation—
lift it above the heavy nights
where we searched for meaning
in echoes of words
we could never quite say.
They tell me there’s a light side to life,
a place where love doesn’t drown
but floats on the surface
like petals in spring rain.

And now, I report from the edge
of this half-forgotten dream,
where the other part of me
begins to breathe anew—
a whisper rising
from the ashes of what we left behind.
Perhaps there is more
than just endings,
more than just the weight
of what we couldn’t be.

In the spaces we left empty,
I find a breath I thought was lost—
the other half, waking slowly,
learning to live
with or without you,
discovering that even broken things
can learn to dance
in the light.