drowning in a mirage
the pool so deep
i feel my lungs filling
and without a doubt
i know my sins
are finally showing
the fatal cost.

Em 2d

I wish it were for attention
or an accident
or a phase.
It would be easier that way.
Maybe then
I wouldn't be scared
to love what I love
Who I love.

You are reading this
as I am navigating
my life and
my newly discovered
what has always been.

Trust me.
I'd much rather hide
behind her hair
and in my room
tucked away
alone, together.

But my heart yearns
to scream at the top of
my lungs
that I love her.
And to say,
Fuck the World
and whoever is not ready
for Us.

would be attention.
And I don't mind.

jas 2d

drug me up
ice in my veins
chills down my spine
a twitch in my eye
like a fire
burning slow
filling my lungs with a leftover residue
towards a suffocation
of my body

I'm sick..

day 17 of 365

my heart does not stop
you do not take my breath away
i do not feel powerless
i am not pained
because that is not how love should feel

when i see you
my heart beats twice as fast
to make sure that i’m alive
so i can see you beautiful face tomorrow
my lungs fill like balloons
(grab my hand
we can float away together)
you make me feel so powerful
i feel safe
this is love

starchild Jan 13

being in love
with someone
who doesn’t
love me back
is like being
buried alive.
the dirt is
slowly seeping
into my lungs.
i’m suffocating,
yet i do not resist.
i close my eyes
and let it take me.

Nonfunctional lungs,
Trying to contract and take in air,
Nothing coming in or out.

My lungs shrink inside my chest,
Deep inhales shred at my lungs.

Shaking frame trying to keep together.

Each breath must be thought about,
But there are to many thoughts on everything else,
So suffocation begins and lung are sinking.

halsey Jan 6

My lungs went empty
talking you down

starchild Dec 2017

too many times
have i taken the time
to individually place
to have someone else
knock them down
before i’ve even finished.

and too many times
have i taken the time
to try to build myself up
for someone to break me down
before i’ve even finished.

they’re scared
of what i could make of myself,
but what they don’t know
is that falling down
and getting back up
just made me stronger.
i have gotten used
to the change in altitudes,
but you still need
an oxygen mask.
(steal the air from my lungs
as i steal the light in your eyes)

be scared.

Phoebe Woods Dec 2017

Hollow cavern with a layer of dust
Swirling and shifting in a light breeze.
Everywhere else is darkness, nothingness, emptiness.
I am hopeful or hopeless or somewhere in between;
the weight of being empty continuously presses against my lungs

Taylor St Onge Dec 2017

If you're a patient in a hospital, wouldn't you want to know
exactly how many people have died in the room
                                                                 you're currently sleeping in?    
                           How many hearts have stopped beating, how many
                                                               lungs have deflated, how many
pupils have stopped responding to light—
                                                          ­                 how long CPR was
                                                                ­             performed before
                                                                ­            Time     of     Death
                                                           ­                       was called?
How many DNR patients waltzed into the afterlife
without so much as a half-hearted chest compression?

Ribs can break during CPR.
How many cracked ribs have echoed
                                                                ­  across the walls of your
                                                                ­            hospital room?


Eve was made from Adam's rib.
God plucked the bone and
                                                                ­                  fashioned it into a
                                                                ­             subservient woman to
                                                                ­               replace the wild one,
                                                                   the first one, the no good one,
                                     the woman made from the same soil as Adam:


We break ribs, break wishbones, break most things we don't understand. A confused patient will take out his IV, his PICC line, even pull at his chest tube or his LVAD driveline.
If it doesn't make sense, we will try to eliminate it in the sake of
                                                                ­                               normality.

                      ­                                     x

Some time in August, we had two codes within one hour.  After 30 or so minutes of chest compressions, they pronounced the second man dead.  He wasn’t my patient that night, and I didn’t know him.  I think his ribs snapped under Alyssa’s hands when she tried to revive him.
                                                            ­      And what does that feel like?   Not just the desperate rush of adrenaline,
        of trying to bring someone back to life—not just the emotional,
                                                                ­           but the physical of it all.

The cracking of the bone beneath the heels of your hands.  
Your fingers laced on top of each other
                                                                ­ pounding and
                                  pounding and
                                                                ­                                  pounding
                                                           against the sternum.  
One, two.  One, two.  One, two.  
                                                          ­            The bone cleaves in half.
And how much pressure does it take?  
I’m sure science could tell us, but
                              how does it feel in your arms, in your shoulders—
                       will your muscles remember the strength it takes and
                                                      stop you next time?


How hard did God have to try when he ripped out
         Adam's rib to make Eve? And
                           how long did it take Adam to recover from the loss?
(Maybe he never did.)


Healthcare is still so barbaric.  You must hurt to help.  
                               Saw through the sternum to get to the heart.  
                 Insert a painful tube to remove the excess fluid.  
                             Drill through the skull and remove
                        potentially useful brain matter.

I have nightmares of tripping over IV tubing and
ripping out PICC lines.   I am terrified of
dropping someone's chest tube on the floor,
                                                 of it ripping violently out of their lungs.
It's not my blood, it's some else's,
                                               and that makes it so much worse.  
                    Being responsible for another human's well-being
                                             is actually terrifying.

I just want to be helpful.  I don’t want to hurtful.  But so often,
                                         I find myself damaging the ones I love.


I would rather have my brain-dead sternum sawed open than
rot in some hole in the ground like my mother if it
                                                        would mean that I could be useful.
                                                   And all we really want is to be useful.
To feel something.  To be something.  
To be proud like the original sin.

Remove my ribs.  All 24 of them.  
Make them into several new women with
several new names and
                                           faces and
                                                            eye colors and
                       skin colors.
Their lives would be more beneficial than my death ever could be.

Like Eve with Lilith, replace the bad, with the seemingly good.  
                                                         Replace the soil with the body.
                                                  It all has to come from somewhere.  


                     How to keep the self close and yet distant from trauma.

part of a larger work based on my work as a cna in a hospital
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