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the trouble with communicating with the potentially dead

curled in bed

eyes pinched tight

whole body trembling,

sleep escaped hours ago

this is how it is trying to talk to you.

 

like pulling teeth with pliers

clenched in a small boy's fist

a wry grin on his determined face,

knotted eyebrows will ache for days

 

like being pulled by a speedboat

tossing and turning in the wake

skin on my palms already gone

taking a breath, giving up, letting go,

crashing hard onto cold water's surface

 

like my chest giving out

every breath catching on its way in

hands digging through a too messy bag

inhaler nowhere in sight, help nowhere in sight,

breathing is too hard to handle right now

 

like a beach beyond the caves

crawling through at low tide,

sand gritty under fingernails, sun stinging on flushed cheeks

lounging on sharp boulders that dig between shoulder blades,

then rushing back home to escape being trapped for the night

toes tickled with goodbye kisses from the dark, growing waves

 

through missing teeth and breath,

under wrinkled sheets, and sand and water,

I can't hear anything.

I never could.

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Written by
noah
Published
Jun 9, 2015
Lines·Words
29·182
Tags
#communication#asthma
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