Endings

Humidity has settled over the Midwest

like a sweat-through stress blanket,

stifling to breathe

but comforting nonetheless.

There's a numbing ball of stress

tucked between my bottom two ribs,

and it keeps me shivering,

even with this thick-aired summer

pressing down atop us.

I should let you be,

so we can both scab and scar

and avoid rubbing open raw wounds

when we talk next.

But

all I want is a too-tight hug,

the ready remedy for every hurt,

to squeeze away this unrest that

keeps me from eating.

Even if

it would just break my heart

instead of healing it.