Peter Atherton Poet Free verse

Let Me Let Go

I’ve been holding on to things
that should’ve let go of me first.
But that’s the curse, isn’t it?
Loving something long after
it’s stopped loving you back.

There are memories I still bleed from,
even though I tell myself
they’re just stories now.
But stories don’t sit in your lungs
like this.
Stories don’t wake you at 3 a.m.
with the weight of everything
you never said.

Some nights I swear
I can feel the version of me
you left behind —
the softer one,
the hopeful one —
pressing against my chest,
begging to be let out,
begging to be forgiven
for believing you’d stay.

I’m tired of pretending
this doesn’t hurt anymore.
Tired of calling it healing
when it’s really just learning
how to hide the ache better.
Tired of carrying ghosts
as if they’re still warm.

So here I am —
hands shaking,
heart cracked open,
finally admitting the truth
I’ve been too proud to speak:

You broke something in me
I’m still trying to name.
And I can’t keep holding
what keeps hollowing me out.

If healing means tearing open
what I’ve stitched shut,
then let it tear.
If freedom means losing
what I clung to out of fear,
then let it fall.

But even in the wreckage,
there’s a flicker —
small, stubborn,
refusing to die.
A reminder that one day,
maybe not today,
I’ll breathe without hurting.

Let the past loosen its claws.
Let the weight finally drop.
Let me —
for the first time in too long —
let go.

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Deb M April 26, 2026 at 4:58 AM Peter….what a powerful poignant write….l felt your pain and torment in this poem….so well written! Debx Peter Atherton April 28, 2026 at 2:19 AM Thank you, Deb. I’m really grateful you felt that in it. This one came from a place I don’t usually put on the page, so hearing that the pain and the honesty reached you means a lot. I never write pieces like this unless they’re real — so I’m glad it connected rather than just sitting heavy.