I don’t remember
Life is a loud breeze that pushes me along without permission.
Or compassion.
And I want to plant my feet upon the ground,
Or my whole body, and feel it sturdy beneath me.
As I curl up, and cry, and breathe.
But the breeze becomes a vortex and sucks the air right out of me.
As the ground recedes,
And I learn to live in the sky,
Laboured breath by laboured breath,
Each second fought for,
Rather than delivered.
And something about it,
Beneath the fear and the panic,
Feels natural.
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