I wish my lungs were like the nightsky, with stars that light the whole thing up. I wish they were a mellow meadow, flowers blooming to the top. I wish my lungs were like a forest, vivid and so evergreen, as morning light sweeps in.

But in my chest they found a hole. So black and starved of life, that tears formed in their eyes. So now when I breathe and feel nothing;

I think of nightskies and meadows and forests