You don’t know what you have until it’s gone
The things we take for granted
Forget to be thankful for,
Even on the most thankful of holidays.

These things are lungs
Pulling life in, pushing death out –
Stretching
Constricting
Diffusing
Incomprehensible

Two porous sacs so seemingly simple
Yet so complex, so undeniably fragile
Connected only by a string
Easily snipped like a thread of hair.

Two vital organs so seemingly complex
Yet so simple, so surmountable
A few puffs, one burst
And suddenly defunct forever.

Like a springtime blossom
Lungs are Her Romeo and Juliet
Growing
Flowering
Collapsing
Forsaken

Come winter, the leaves will fall
Barren branches remain
Bereft of in and outs
Leaving only a cavity in the chest.