Choking.

Time is a slow and steady suffocation.

It took a little bit before I realized that I didn’t know what it looked like, to be sorry for taking up air.

I apologized for being an inconvenience, yes. But the depth of my pain grows deeper as I reach for the light.

I was so creative, once upon a time.

I felt like a master of my words, I was a fearless painter.

Now, doubt has turned my lips pale.

I didn’t even see the blue I wore before.

Now, it feels I see too little, too late.

When you’re choking,

The more you gasp for air, the more violently your throat pushes the unwanted air back out.

It’s a snowball down the small hill I once climbed so slowly.

I’ve pushed everyone further away.

And now, paranoia has replaced my good company.

Defensive beasts take my side where my friends and family once stood.

The funny thing is, I was warned.

The blindfold slipped off on its own as you left this time.

I have no one to blame for these chains around my neck.

I put them there, and I’ve already jumped.

I did not fall, I was not pushed.

And once my feet hit the ground, my neck will snap. And my pain, and my truth, they will be carried away from any ears to hear my story. At least I know it’s my fault.

And in my pity, like that venomous snake consuming it’s tail, I will fall facedown.

When I bite the head off, I will finally rise.

And I’ll start at the bottom of my hill once again.

If I’m going to survive my own mistakes

I guess I have to imagine myself happy.

~a.f.