Mrs. DUMBO...my mediastinum
Free Verse
It's a high rise when the alveoli sigh. In the dark night, the air is quite a sight. It's sad in that way— I wonder, what's the rush? But in the moment, I can't. I can't. I don't understand. My hand—it tries to grab onto the nothingness. My eyes find wider eyes— offering a hand, some water, a friend? No longer can I see. I close my eyes and count the beats. Then I can feel me breathe between knees.
This is so intimate and beautifully raw. I can feel the tension and release in every line, the reaching and the small moments of grounding. Thank you for sharing such a tender piece