Breathing
A poem about fear
Lungs are a privilege.
Muscles, bones, veins —
Your body is a privilege.
You could lose it anytime.
when i run as fast as i can, i can feel the wind whip through me
You don’t deserve to live —
Neither do I.
If it were something
We could deserve
It would be easier to protect.
it doesn’t feel fragile when my heart is pumping
We can’t escape the end,
Or even delay it
Most of the time.
i can’t outrun the worry, but i can run with the worry on my back
Panting afterward,
I feel lucky
To breathe at all.
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