Drafts

I held the words like a stone in my cheek.

The glass was a barrier, cold and sleek.

Your hand gave a wave, a final, small sign.

I let the warm breath erase every line.

I watched the fog on the pane disappear.

I didn't say what I wanted you to hear.

I just stood in the hall like a hollowed-out shell.

Some things are too heavy to actually tell.