The Weight of an Inch

I looked at my finger,

a thin, pale line against the air.

Just one inch of space

between me and the glass that broke.

I am a man of character,

but I was afraid of the shattering.

Afraid of the grit and the noise,

the status of a moment

that would have changed my life.

No degree could teach me to jump,

no empty degree of courage could fix my heart.

I squeezed my eyes,

tightly pushing my palms together.

I wanted to bridge the gap,

to feel the other side of the truth.

But I stayed on this side of the line.

I practiced a level of sabr that was not graceful,

it was a prison.

I looked at the window again.

The sun was hitting the dust on the surface,

turning the glass into a mirror

that only showed my own reflection.

A "Part of me" that was already broken

inside my chest.

A new life, they say,

is just a breath away.

But for me, it was the length of an inch.

Stay firm in your art.

Stay loyal to your fears.

The universe is not expanding,

it is just waiting for us to move.