I can't breathe.
Something's pressing on my lungs.
A mare, sitting on my chest, heavily,
like in the old drawings.
I can't breathe.
My airways are blocked.
Nothing's wrong with me and all is clear,
but something is, and I'm all ears.
I come out of my sleep choking,
tumbling on a dream,
while all the stitches I ever sew
are ripped from their fumbling seam,
I realize that it's something else,
that is close to my heart and dark,
and the reason I wake up breathless
is I'm trapped inside what things are,
I never expected to find any hope,
but since when it was taken away
I grieve for it in panic lost,
every fucking day
Aww, hon... :/
ReplyDelete*HUGS*
*huggles back* I actually wasn't that down when writing it. Just that I thought I would illustrate the feeling I had the other morning when I couldn't breathe when I woke up :) It actually is starting to feel a bit better. Not good. But better. My horoscope said "divert your thoughts" so that's what I'm doing these days, ha ha :D
ReplyDeleteHey what's wrong? Do you have asthma or something? =/
ReplyDeletePS. Loved the poem...again! :)
"I come out of my sleep choking,
ReplyDeletetumbling on a dream,
while all the stitches I ever sew
are ripped from their fumbling seam,"
Really nice lines.... I have always loved the way you write. and you never prove me wrong! :D Im glad you dont.. Just keep those coming, will ya?
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ReplyDeleteCab - no I don't. It was something similar to an anxiety attack I experienced that morning.
ReplyDeleteDP - thank you very much. It flatters me that a great poet such as yourself finds my poetry good. Haha I will try :)
okay now that is total flattery.... c'mon im not that good.... *blushes*
ReplyDeleteYou are. Stop underestimating yourself. You're a very timeless poet and I can't help but love every thing that you write. How does that make you non-good? Please, motivate... :p
ReplyDelete