Betrayals Hold Firm, Until…

Relationships hover
like paused holograms in a crumbling projection,
glitching mid-gesture,
their once-warm gravity now weightless as vapor trails,
faces buffering into abstraction,
touch reduced to pixels that never quite load

layer by fragile layer,
then armored ourselves like deep-sea creatures,
pressure-forged, unblinking,
dragging secrets behind us
like oil slicks spreading across an unseen tide.

Time did not pass—it accumulated,
stacking betrayals like unread messages
until the screen cracked under their weight—
finances splitting like fault lines,
family drifting like ice floes torn loose,
everything we buried
leaking upward like radiation through thin soil.

And still…

We moved bodies lit by the cold glow of what we refused to forgive,
circling like satellites falling out of orbit,
knowing compassion pulsed there, steady as a heartbeat,
yet locking it away as if mercy could expire.

Until…

Not in repair,
not in reunion,
but in the instant everything finally failed.

We stopped and without the armor,
without the story,
without even the right to begin again,

it broke open,

no one else,

us,

apart.

And what we found from a distance
was not ruin but something unbearably simple:

the world had not withdrawn,
we had

and the way forward was already happening
the moment we let go.