Breathe

 

Breathing

is so hard,

so fucking difficult

when

the air is so thick

that it hangs,

pushes,

weighs

on my skin

like a winter coat

made of molecules

of desire

that suffocates

and makes the

want so

much heavier

than the air

it hovers in.

Just     one     breath

then I might make it,

I might survive

the nagging,

incessant

need that

covers

me like

a blanket

of weighted words.

I am an overflowing

cup of

letter-poem-story

writing

chaos that does

nothing except

make the

cloud of want

bulge with watery

memories

of times

I can never

get back.

 

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4 thoughts on “Breathe

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