Stalemate or Ceasefire

Ice inside my lungs
I’m breathing in but nothing’s happening
My chest is swollen, cracking, evaporating
As it’s done so many times before

The possibility of chance
The probability of fate�"
Was this fated
Breath so abated
That you took from me
For nothing more than to tell me
That I should take it back again?

I can never seem to win
These wars of words we throw
Back and forth like crooked spears
Twisting and marring our own intents
Morphing into our worst fears
That maybe this could be the last
Battle of wits and feelings hurt to pass
And then we’d wave white flags
Unable to lift those double-edged swords again.

Unable to open hearts barred shut
Laden with barbed wire and steel
That very real fear that something
Could take you away or steal
You from me, the warmth 
From my breast, the breast
You’ve caressed with fondness
And blessed with the better parts
Of you, the parts I don’t want to lose

To warring tempers
Conflicting thoughts
Mismatched ideas
Misplaced empathy

All hidden beneath the armor
Of pride, ego, fear, anger
Conflicting, mismatched, and misplaced
A cover without that strips the soul encased.