Something in me keeps leaning forward. Held in the middle where the body says stay and the pulse says run, Every breath comes back in pieces, every piece weighs more than one. Nothing has a name here, nothing has a face I have to blame, Just the pull, just the pressure, just the ache that stays the same. How do I move when every part of me is pulling in another way, when letting go still feels like losing and holding on still hurts the same? I don't need the hurt to vanish, I don't need to know what waits ahead, I just need enough of me together to move one step from where I am. Pull through Pull through One step not yet One step— The floor stays still. The chest goes tight. One foot lifts. One stays behind. How do I move when every part of me is pulling in another way, when one side begs me not to leave and one says I can't stay this way? If all I have is one small motion, let that motion be enough for now, not healed, not whole, not over—just moving somehow. Pull through Pull through One step not yet One step— No clean release, no sudden peace, the pull gets loud, the breath gets weak. Still— one step. Not free. Not through. One step—
