o n e | d a y – – –my eyes didn’t fill pools full of memories when that familiar chord vibrated through the foam of the speaker,
my chest didn’t ache incessantly at the hum of the prosaic melody. . .
one | day you were no longer pulling mercilessly on the puppet strings that held me all t o g e t h e r & my heart didn’t spill out like an overflowing sink.
it wasn’t that i had forgotten you – – i just needed to learn how to breathe on my own.
© Gina Jenkins