The Prayer That Snapped My Spine

The paper folded tight in shaking hands,

a promise written in black and white,

held like a glass that could shatter

before it could be held.

Loan approved,

a word meant to open doors

but it’s a slow closing, pressing ribs

until the breath’s less mine.

Stapled pages stare,

ink that weighs heavy like winter clothes

packed away too soon,

promises tangled in the ache of debt.

That prayer, once a crack of light,

today—

a shadow heavy, settling, long.