Nostalgia

How strange
that someone's face
in a photograph
can knock the air
completely from my lungs

He always did leave me
writhing on the floor
a fish on the bank
suffocating
alone

I am back in the water now
looking up at that shore
wondering why I delayed
ever jumping back in

It is fine here without you
and I am fine here without you
I am fine here without you

I say it to myself so often
in hushed tones
I am starting to believe it