Omissions

This speaks for itself

Enjoy, all ye who read.

Ventures of a love-sick addict.

Trying not…

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.

…to function

as if the two things I love and use most…

View original post 141 more words

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on April 3, 2015, in Republished. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. Reading on. Brilliant the message and the brilliant wording. Makes one feel we are on a race to take in all of the air & life in one moment. Yet, we do know life is but one moment in time. We arrive. We visit. We leave. We return? A question not answered while living in this jurisdiction.

    Thanks for posting. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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