The world is quiet first thing in the morning.
I feel content in those moments, I feel no anxiety.
The world breathes with us,
It inhales when we do, exhales for us when we don't,
But it does not stop when we do.
It never will.

We became familiar with this lifestyle, with these people, and these smells.
Someday they will leave us, and I can't quite grasp why they will.
We dream of places of beauty and desire,
At night when our sad eyes finally retire.

So let us be human and let us continue to breathe.
Because someday when our lungs decide to kick, we will probably miss the feeling.
The taste of fresh air lets me know you're still here
In my blood, in my lungs, and in my heart.

To become content with death is something I don't think we ever will be,
But until then I'm content with being me.
So let the wind come in through my window and
Knock down all the pictures and all my trinkets on the windowsill.  
Let the air inhale through my body and let the world exhale it out.