For the lion under my skin, who roars so loud that everyone, except I, can hear him.
For the heartbeat under my chest that thumps like a ship about to capsize, sitting under the hands of an ocean, trembling, to keep it afloat.
For the feet I feel walking across the splintered boardwalk,
for the feet I feel tugging at the strings embedded like kites in my hipbones;
I am sorry, I am just not ready to run yet
I am still trying, to find my breath.
Forgive me,
To the lion under my skin,
Forgive me.
Had I known you had screamed your throat dry, scratching at my veins, for someone to unzip my flesh, for someone, to open your cage;
Forgive me,
To the lion under my skin,
Forgive me.
Had I known the last time I felt the ocean trickle down my temples, the sun, mistaking it for tears, had I known
this would be the last time, I never would have taken no for answer, when you told me that your bones felt too heavy, to stand here any longer.
Had I known, holding your silence in handfuls, cupping the deafening sounds of the words that never came from your mouth, would’ve kept us whole
I would have swallowed every bit of your breath until your lungs wrapped their fingers around your neck, begging, for one more chance
If only I had known
this could’ve kept us whole,
I never would have stopped.
I never would have dug down beneath your throat searching, for something that I already knew the answer to;
I never would have made those words, real.
So forgive me,  
Dear lion,
Forgive me,
for not knowing sooner that things go; and we must let them.

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