Is there a moment where I'll finally be able
To let my lungs fill with air,
Where entrenchment of lonely will subside and
Release the suffocating hold it has on the inner workings
Waging a battle, trying so desperately not to let go,
Not let feelings overwhelm basic processes of survival
Where every action is constricted by frozen fingertips,
And the inability to grasp anything which is held dear.
The warmth of the embrace doesn’t linger,
Like hoping warm currents would wash over me
Burying deep the remnants of frigid cold moments
That have built up over this time; it hurts.
What happened before?
Something convinced me to look forward
Away from anxious tip...top…tap…tapping noises my feet make
Away from cuts on hands once gentle
Away from questioning moments and being and what is felt and the how and why of it all
I dare not say I go back to being a little boy
Which hid under countless blankets, pretending that
Whatever was breathing ruthlessly down over me
Wouldn’t be able to get to me if I had only hidden.
Edited by 012340, 09 January 2017 - 08:38 AM.