|Breath (standard:poetry, 145 words)|
|Author: Finn McKool||Added: Feb 25 2003||Views/Reads: 1634/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|It's a poem. It's mine. Nuff said.|
Inhale exhale. Feel it move in Through the nostrils, and the trachea, and the bronchiols. Feel it rush in. Feel it rush out. That's life and time you know. Every breath. Every second. Another moment closer to death and destiny. Inhale exhale. Slow it down. Make it last. Pray for rain. Pray for pain. Pray you don't have to make the cuts, but can control where the blade falls. Inhale exhale. Pray to continue to do so. It could be you won't. It could be your last. Where are you now, as you take what could be your last breath? In a supermarket line? Underneath buzzing phosphorant office lights that suck the vitae out of you? Do you want them to find you face down in your microwave dinner, my poem on your screen, terryaki dripping from your eyebrows? Tread carefully. And practice your breathing. Tweet
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