The Breaking of My Own Voice

Suddenly
you turn,
like the six words
of an almost forgotten song,

“Leave me with what I have.”

With that
unfortunate turn of phrase,
I am no longer on your quest.
I am no longer your sherpa
who must endure
the emotional tumble
that congeals in my throat.

I create my own life,
no longer measuring time,
one atom at a time at your pace
so as not to reveal
my own weaknesses;
an amalgam of losses
and tasks left undone.

My transgressions abraded
one fiber of disappointment
undone by more than I can count-

more than the breaking
of my own voice.