Untitled
Breath
Is a funny thing.
You never notice it,
At least I don’t
Until it leaves
Your lungs
Or until
You get too much of it
It rushes in, in and out
You are frantic, scared, whatever, it’s there
Too much, and yet not enough, in and out,
And in, and
Out.
I remember quite clearly
The moon was out
Night sky jet black
Lights everywhere
My breath a mist in front of me
Shoulder pads weighing like lead
In and
Out
My eyes were wide orbs
Gazing over the field
The crowd
Bodies moving like water
I’m nervous, scared, ready to play already
I remember thinking
In
“I’m alive.”
And out
She took my breath
The first time she said it
In
“I love you.”
And out
And it wasn’t figurative, it really happened
It was gone, gone like the wind, how ironic, seeing as to how
You know breath and wind are made of the same stuff
And she just
In
Took it
And out.
I was there laying
In
My ear on her chest
And out.
I was almost asleep.
And I thought
In
“I’m alive.”
And out.
And she was breath-
In
-ing
And out.
As I Walked Home in the Rain
When I woke up this morning I felt vibrant, I was
Glowing, my step was light, I could feel the warm fire
In my eyes, and everything was clear like looking through glass
Like crystal, like a clean mirror, the colors were deep and
Real, greens grew, reds lusted, I fell into the color black
Fell right in, it swallowed me and I rose back up
With the oranges and yellows, glowing again, growing
Again. The weather did not dictate my mood I
Was my own to control. Inside my head a warm
Breeze was blowing, the palm trees swayed and everything was
Growing. And then it came onto me. I stepped into the
Rain. Grey overhead, and lifeless, as a corpse, rotting.
I fell into the gray, deeper than the black, and tumbled
Down. There was no rising, I hit the glass, and it shattered.
