I can feel myself tucked inside.
I want to come out and feel,
deeply,
but I am trapped in my chest.
With each breath I remember
the hollowness where
a swell of feelings
once perched,
like a sweet bird
singing to me constantly.
I miss the warmth of its weight within me;
I turn up my music to draw it back out;
I am afraid it’s been lost to monotony.
But if I close my eyes
and breathe slowly,
deeply,
I can almost feel my diaphragm brush the edges
of that same cluster of emotions
that once lived close to my heart
Oct 11, 2020
Oct 11, 2020 at 2:16 PM UTC
I can feel myself tucked inside.
I want to come out and feel,
deeply,
but I am trapped in my chest.
With each breath I remember
the hollowness where
a swell of feelings
once perched,
like a sweet bird
singing to me constantly.
I miss the warmth of its weight within me;
I turn up my music to draw it back out;
I am afraid it’s been lost to monotony.
But if I close my eyes
and breathe slowly,
deeply,
I can almost feel my diaphragm brush the edges
of that same cluster of emotions
that once lived close to my heart