Holding My Breath Like A Loaded Gun

I hold my breath

As if it were an eclipse

A dark coin pressed

Against the mouth of the world

Turning everything silver and silent

Inside me

The air becomes an omen

It sharpens

Hardens

Takes the shape of a weapon

I never forged

Yet somehow inherited

My lungs turn to winter vaults

Sealed with frostbitten vows

Even my shadow refuses to move

As though any motion

Might awaken the sleeping metal

Of my own becoming

I stand in that hush

Where myth begins

Where a single breath

Can tilt the axis of a life

Where the body is both altar

And threat

Both prayer

And trigger

And in this suspended moment

I understand

I am not holding my breath

To stay alive

I am holding it

To keep the future

From detonating too soon