The Weight of Trust

Two cups of cold coffee, untouched,

a kitchen table scarred with years.

Your voice cracked, words spilling out,

a truth so raw I barely breathed.

You waited for disbelief,

instead I leaned in, silent,

believing the fracture, the ache,

the raw edges you dared show.

In that moment, weight shifted,

trust laid bare without armor.

I held the space where you fell,

and for a breath, it was enough.