Immy

to the girl down the street
who used to call:

seeing you nowadays
feels like losing my breath.

I know it will come back - 
I hope it will come back.

but in that moment
I still can’t breathe.

Among those mounds of cold barbed wire 
you seem much more at home.
Your heart belongs to thorns and briars
among those mounds of cold barbed wire.
And though you say you need to find her,
since we left her alone

“Don’t jump,” he said,
“From this height you will fly.”
But caring words are useless to the dead.
“(don’t) Jump” he said.
I guess those words had jumbled in my head.  
who knows what he had really meant, I