I heard her through
a sponge
Muffled kind of
Melodic
Gently holding me
saying
“He is okay
He is safe.
You are safe.
You could let him go.
I’m sorry that happened to you.”
I didn’t know it
But it was something I needed
to hear.
Not all the other layers
Of fog
I’ve heard
So long that began to push me into
a permanence
To propel me into a
Larger place of uncertainty.
No, this small piece
of peace
that took me from'
the pain spewing for months
from madness
to clarity.
That he sees himself.
Or is starting to.
Maybe he doesn’t.
It doesn’t matter.
What’s done is done.
It can’t be undone.
It can’t erase.
We can let go.
Once I knew I could.
I breathed.
I began to let go.
I didn’t know that’s what it was.
This fear
This whole time.