Stent

Skin on skin
Breath on skin
Your words like porcelain,
Fell
Instantly creating a chasm.
Slow motion
I saw you fumble to catch your last syllable
But it was too late.
They hit my ears like a tidal wave
ROARING
burning, careening
Until they found their rightful place
In the middle of my chest.
Resuscitation.
I pushed each ah, ee, and ew
Deeper and deeper inside until I could no longer feel the pain
And my breath returned to me.
Time after time, again and again
Simple words.
Nothing more, nothing less,
Began to clog my insides.
Your voice - once my sanctuary
Now ran like shards of glass down a blackboard.
In guilt and love, you came to me.
And I grasped each affirmation, a tiny stent, to replace the damage
Hoping blood might flow and my heart might beat again.
I looked to you, oh my surgeon, for bandaid-sized repair.
When, perhaps what I needed, was transplantation.