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A Deep Breath..
I feel my lungs and close the airways. submerge my face in a pillow and resolve myself to wait until my lungs burn. I await the pain. my senses screaming, my lungs are driving me to let them have the oxygen they so desire.. I Decline..
funny how I chose that which offers peace to the weary, an item that invites comfort to rob myself of the most archaic means of surviving. i find it interesting how calm I feel while denying myself tjay which I know i cannot live without. isn't it odd how we only become aware of the subtle currents of air that tickles our skin, raising chill bumps where it finds us bare when we deny ourself the luxury?
Luxury. that's an interesting way to phrase it really, Breathing as a luxury, we sometimes overlook on a daily basis. a gift of power, smug in our abuse and neglect we fail to see what we loose when we breath. lying here refusing to give myself life, for thats what air is really, wouldn't you say? Breathing is LIVING.
I laugh. oh yes, I find it funny. I catch myself reading to breath again and I still that notion. Shove it down, should do it until it is really nothing but a stinging memory in my chest. It takes a lot of strength to deny myself two.. But somehow that only drives me to test my strength. I wonder if I won't forget somehow? Cut the muscle memory that Pilots such a necessary involuntary act to be forgotten? No, of course not. But perhaps that feeling of fresh air for life could be! could it? Perhaps not. For even as these words find themselves onto this page I find myself remembering what it feels like to expand my lungs, turn a blind to cool as it gathers it fills with oxygen as it travels on its welding cynical way. I laugh again.
the burn begins to spread and I feel my muscles atrophy. yet they tighten intense as if they were under assault, screaming out the atrocity brought upon them.though I still refuse to breath. I roll away from the pillow, open my face to the Stow are and fill it tickle as it tries to find a weakness. Denying my lungs for so long I begin to feel my skin breathing. Absorbing oxygen a cell occur in mitosis continues in spite of my flirtatious dance. Maybe I'm just dreaming. ( Part 1)
funny how I chose that which offers peace to the weary, an item that invites comfort to rob myself of the most archaic means of surviving. i find it interesting how calm I feel while denying myself tjay which I know i cannot live without. isn't it odd how we only become aware of the subtle currents of air that tickles our skin, raising chill bumps where it finds us bare when we deny ourself the luxury?
Luxury. that's an interesting way to phrase it really, Breathing as a luxury, we sometimes overlook on a daily basis. a gift of power, smug in our abuse and neglect we fail to see what we loose when we breath. lying here refusing to give myself life, for thats what air is really, wouldn't you say? Breathing is LIVING.
I laugh. oh yes, I find it funny. I catch myself reading to breath again and I still that notion. Shove it down, should do it until it is really nothing but a stinging memory in my chest. It takes a lot of strength to deny myself two.. But somehow that only drives me to test my strength. I wonder if I won't forget somehow? Cut the muscle memory that Pilots such a necessary involuntary act to be forgotten? No, of course not. But perhaps that feeling of fresh air for life could be! could it? Perhaps not. For even as these words find themselves onto this page I find myself remembering what it feels like to expand my lungs, turn a blind to cool as it gathers it fills with oxygen as it travels on its welding cynical way. I laugh again.
the burn begins to spread and I feel my muscles atrophy. yet they tighten intense as if they were under assault, screaming out the atrocity brought upon them.though I still refuse to breath. I roll away from the pillow, open my face to the Stow are and fill it tickle as it tries to find a weakness. Denying my lungs for so long I begin to feel my skin breathing. Absorbing oxygen a cell occur in mitosis continues in spite of my flirtatious dance. Maybe I'm just dreaming. ( Part 1)
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