This speaks for itself
Enjoy, all ye who read.
to hold my breath
waiting for a dozen firsts
to unfold like a hundred scenes
I’ve seen on film, starring us
feels like dying underwater must.
Bubbles of air racing from my lungs to the surface,
like a shuttle into space
hoping to alert someone whose been trained
to save tourists like me who sojourn too long in the deep;
taken by the illusion of time,
gambling with the assumption that there will always be more.
…to harbor expectations
like a ship that will sink without port
feels like trying to sift oxygen from air with a colander would
….were anyone dumb enough
Yet here I stand waiting for the next gust of wind.
…to ask questions I can’t stomach answered
makes me feel half empty as a glass
sick of being examined instead of drunk.
as if the two things I love and use most…
View original post 141 more words