The Air Around Your Lungs

I seemed to have forgotten myself

Oh, it’s been such a while…

Call it what you like

growing up shouldn’t be

Such a grand forfeiture

Tick tock tick tock

Feel the lilt of the clock

As it lulls you to sleep

Without so much as a dream

And I’m still here,


But the waiting is over

And I’m not enough older

To say I’ve learned much

But one can regret every touch

Of cold, bitter, numb fingers

Around the throat that wants to yell

“Help! Get me out!”

And who says you must wait

Until time’s nearly up

To learn how to scream

To learn how to breathe

Or to learn how to notice

The air around your lungs


Photo by Hannah Busing

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