Breathing.

Long-Hair-Serous-Andrea Photo: Alana Bagladi

Im still.

Im still breathing.

Choking down sobs night after night but

Im still

Here. Im still

Breathing.

How is it that the world force feeds you

Pain and sorrow

And youre still,

Youre still here

Breathing?

The scars on my wrist, they strangle my veins.

These scars,

Theyre a sickly kind of white now,

Not noticeable to the common eye,

Faded but bleeding beneath the surface.

My heart cant handle anymore,

When will life stop feeding me this pain?

But Im still here,

Still breathing.

 

Air keeps us alive,

Our lungs build us up,

We breathe in.

And we breathe out.

Its a rather simple process, natural.

But why is oxygen the one thing killing me,

Betraying me.

Why is it that every time the anxiety sneaks its way in

Trapping me in my own mind,

That the air escapes me

And Im gasping for help,

Screaming for understanding,

Wishing for a deadline on my life.

Why is the oxygen leaving,

Stay. Please.

Im clutching onto my body,

Begging it to stop,

But the room keeps spinning

Why is the room spinning?

My lungs feel empty.

How am I still breathing?

Breathing.

Why am I still breathing?

 

The alcohol seduces my blood,

And the smoke dances in my lungs,

Clouded over,

Breathing in and out.

In

And

Out.

It simplifies.

The constant brawl, the racing thoughts,

My breathing.

It narrows down to the easy.

So I take cup after cup,

Downing drink

After

Drink,

Dirtying my lungs with smoke,

Glazing my mind over with matter,

I am

Numb.

But Im still here.

Im still

Breathing.

 

My mom never told me that sometimes the sadness would take away the vibrancy in my eyes,

And smirk back at me with darkness.

She never told me that sometimes when I rolled out of bed in the morning, I wouldnt recognize myself,

She never told me that winter would welcome the coldness into my heart.

All she ever told me was

its just a phase.

We all go through phases, right?

This isnt a phase mom,

Im not a clock ticking,

Waiting to strike midnight and for a new day to begin,

My chapters dont flow easily into the next,

Taking deep breaths,

In

And

Out.

It doesnt fix the pain.

Breathing wont make it go away.

But here I am.

Im still breathing.

This isnt a phase.




Becky Harrison : Certified klutz, free spirited, go-get-em goof ball. Loves writing poetry and the beach. Strong believer in bucket lists.
Becky Harrison : Certified klutz, free spirited, go-get-em goof ball. Loves writing poetry and the beach. Strong believer in bucket lists.
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