Breathing, sometimes, gets hard
Breathing, sometimes, gets hard. Not like a brick that can be broken down by a simple look, but as hard as breathing can possibly be. When your at the bottom of the pool, looking up into the sky, through the glistening bubbles, all you can see is the world distorted but yet you feel so free. Eventually you try to come up to the surface for a single breath so you can remain enjoying the scene. But you can't float up to the top for that sweet taste of air. Suddenly, it all becomes blurry. Reaching for the openness that seems so close to you. If you were to scream, you might just loose those last seconds of life you hold so preciously. Your eyes, shut so tight, you only see the darkness and the water becomes so cold. Freezing cold. Like a million knives stabbing you. A million thoughts running in your mind which you see like a horribly scary movie. Your body becomes numb. Asking yourself, am I dead yet? AM I DEAD? The last few air bubbles slip out of your mouth as your body falls to a thud on the bottom on the pool. The sun shines brightly on my face. My heads tired but my eyes are awake. I find myself in bed, yearning for some fresh air. Its stuffy when the room is filled with smoke. The fire has taken my closet and is looking for me now. I run out of my door and into the field. Breathing becomes easy again.
A poem by me!
A poem by me!