I remember a time when my breath 

wasn’t so heavy. It was clear like 

the ocean before it was polluted

by glass bottles, glass jars, and

a glass heart that sank to the bottom

of the sea beside the abandoned

ship that was too dangerous 

to sink amid. It’s not easy to

breathe when a glass heart 

shatters. It’s not easy to let go

of the shards that hide behind 

the slimy green seaweed underneath

the broken pink seashell concealing

a lustrous, forgotten pearl. It can’t 

be easy to dive 12,080 feet and swim

after what was once mine. I tried,

but the shards became a prized 

possession that the ocean took

and never gave back. Now, 

it can never be mine again.