Breathing - Poem by James Mills
Night clings like splinters. Sleep spins dreams of yellow air.
Brittle breathing raps lungs, wraps bones.
Breath a cackle, exhalation a storm.
The house creaks, sighs; bored with this wheezing panic.
I will sleep.
Will proves no match for this demon.
Sweat damps too-warm sheets.
Pinned under cloying blankets, I'm trapped.
I slough them.
Cold demands a portion of suffering.
The dance continues; world reduced to single mouthfuls of air.
I breathe; a cacophony pulsing like diabolical bellows.
World noise echoes. Snap fingers, see if sound exists outside this punctured universe.
syllable by syllable.
Who but me committed the unwitting Sin?
Am I alone?
I offer an arm to the sting of hope.
Air plunges in.
Oh, friendly needle.
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