Lungcages

Without being involved in this circle, perhaps, I would have become a different person. I could have kept going down a different road- something more relieving and breathable. Did I just say breathable? What is it about today that isn’t allowing me to breathe?

B R E A TH E

I used to pause and take time out for this; remembering that my lungs work meant that I was still living in my present. As I exhaled, I felt the ground shaking (obviously, all imaginary) and I realized that I must live for myself. No one is able to stare at me with a question- “Why are you so glum? Why are you not the way I desire you to be?” No one is able to demand anything of me except myself. Oh, how I felt like crying in my palms. Finally, I had reached a place where I was wanting to laugh out loud for myself. I wanted to question my depressing moments for MY own health and not to satisfy another party.

What about today is preventing me from breathing for myself? What about today is allowing my hands to reach towards stimulants so I can breathe in another’s memory? What about today is causing me to intoxicate my mind so I can laugh to be okay for another being?

Something happened to being okay for myself, didn’t it? I mean, engaging in activities I haven’t before hoping it will create biological urgency enough to push me forward to catch up with the rest of this world.. something happened to catching up with my own self, didn’t it?

Sooner or later, the stimulants will force my hands to slice my chest skin open so I can find my lung cage and massage my organs to force fresh breathe in. When my mind will reach a dead end hustle, I will biologically pump air and fight.

Perhaps, I am seeing visions. Perhaps, it is hallucination.