A Pause from Myself

I carried my years like frost in my lungs,
heavy, barely noticeable to others
but impossible to breathe through.

The nights sat beside me
like an old friend I never chose.
We said nothing.
We didn’t have to.

The bottle stood on the table,
silent as a church before dawn.
I knew what it wanted.
And I knew what I needed.

Not joy.
Not a high.
Not even forgetting.

Just a pause
from myself.

A moment where the heart
didn’t slam itself against the ribs
to prove it was still alive.

I didn’t drink to fall.
I was already falling.

I drank to land softly
on the way down.