The Unbound Ring

 I sensed it once — your path was flawed,

Not cruel, perhaps, but strangely odd.

The way you walked, the things you chose,

A quiet ache the silence knows.

Like a ring, I was caught — a loop of gold, a silent knot.

Not just on my finger, but in my mind,

Your presence wrapped me, close and blind.

So off it came — that golden band,

Your name engraved by careful hand.

I slipped it free, my fingers bare,

A weight once worn, no longer there.

I tried to hold what slipped away,

But love had long begun to fray.

The ring now sleeps in rust and dust,

A box of junk, a tomb of trust.

But now — as fingers leave that trace,

I yearn for open, freer space.

As metal bends and sets me free,

I long to bend away from thee.

Like treasure lost in pond-bed deep,

It lies beneath my silent grief.

No diving down, no reaching back —

The past is sealed, the light is black.

I dare not wear it, dare not sell,

For fear it casts a silent spell.

A relic from a time gone sweet,

Now crushed beneath forgotten feet.

Freedom — not from love alone,

But from the cage I called my own.

Not just the ring that bruised my skin,

But you — the circle I was in.

The wedding — yes, it had its grace,

A gentle smile, a warm embrace.

But seasons shift, and hours flee,

What once was “us” is no more “we.”

Your memories? Trinkets, nothing more —

Not worth the vows they stood before.

And yet that ring, though cast aside,

Once crowned my hand with love and pride.

It's gone — and still, I sometimes feel

Its ghost in gold, its echo real.

A burden worn by heart and hand,

A tale the world won’t understand.

Let my hands be bare again.

Let my breath forget your name.

What once was warm has grown too tight —

I seek the open, seek the light.