Today I wake up,
I take a breath,
And I
Choke
my emotions have come to life around me
Taking shape as a poison
A miasma of disaster
every thought an enemy to my own
Wrecking my insides with every inhale
I exhale
And I choke
On the inhuman sounds of grief ..
Losing myself ..
who is that in the mirror?
Who am I today? Will I be the same tomorrow?
Do I even want that?
Maybe.. as I lay in bed
I consider the alternative
What if I didn’t inhale? Would I still be suffering?
So then I wouldn’t choke? And choke again. And again and again. Sometimes the peace of darkness feels better than the dread of a new day.
Yet for some reason I choose to breathe.
Every time.
Every day
confusing myself in the process,
Who chooses to be In pain? To go day in and day out and never have a better outcome.
if you do something enough times is it still consistency and repetition
Or
it is insanity and a disconnection.
i grow weary and weak from the stagnant air that loiters around me but I stilll breathe.











