The Cost of a Breath

The Price of Staying 

Sometimes 

I just watch you 

breathe 

slowly 

in and out 

I thought 

I’d get to do that 

forever 

well, not forever 

but without a timer 

Sometimes 

I listen to you 

breathing—

It’s a great comfort 

for me 

to hear that rhythm  

I’m scared 

I hate admitting that 

Every breath 

feels borrowed now 

So, I will count them 

not to measure loss 

but to honor 

the price of staying 

I will count 

each breath 

as a blessing—

a currency 

I never knew 

I was spending 

I don’t know 

how many 

we have left 

This is why 

I look 

and I listen 

when you grow quiet 

You say I am your heart 

You are mine 

I live more fully 

through every breath 

I am grateful 

for each one 

My love 

My heart 

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

June 25, 2026 

The Cost of Death

The Price of Moving On 

Cover my eyes 

when I die— 

so death 

does not see you 

and mistake 

your grief 

for an invitation 

Life moved on 

death moved in 

I have gone from this house 

the pale rider now lives here 

Even now 

the house remembers 

the footsteps 

the laughter 

it knows 

who belongs 

and who doesn’t 

grief bangs 

the pantry door 

at midnight 

and death 

loves a house 

that echoes

 

Do not linger 

on the porch 

Close the gate 

do not look back 

I am more than the dust 

settling on the mantle 

or the draft 

beneath the door 

I am the love we built 

the warmth of my hand 

the cadence of my voice 

Keep those 

in the light 

but leave 

the silence here 

it belongs to the rider 

and you have miles 

left to walk 

Grieve 

Go 

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

The Cost of a Mistake

The Price of Redemption 

We judge others

on their actions 

We judge ourselves 

on our intent 

Imagine 

living your life 

based on 

one mistake 

or several 

a moment of weakness 

a careless word 

a selfish choice 

A mistake 

is an event 

not a name 

Yet we are prone 

to carve our failures 

into monuments 

and live in the shadow 

How much 

remorse 

how many 

apologies 

how many 

good works 

would be enough 

What is the cost 

of a mistake 

What is the price 

of redemption 

I can forgive you 

for the price 

of trust 

He will forgive you 

for the price 

of asking 

 

But you—

You must forgive 

and there 

the ledger changes 

Nothing I say feels enough 

nothing I do feels finished 

and nothing I offer 

can unmake what I made

Yet, redemption 

was never purchased 

by carrying 

the mistake forever 

So, tell me—

what is my price 

what is your price 

of laying it down 

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

June 18, 2026