underwater, laughing echoes
faces smile and mine smiles along
while the brick wall remains strong
and so do i

break the surface, grab the air
with one cold hand and save it for later
might be needing an emotion or two
sometime soon

above the waves, all i can do
is observe and pretend to exist
while the background consists of the rest of you all
and i am separate
and the only thing i feel
rises up in my throat, hard and painful
and of all the things to surface, this
(crying)
is not the reaction i was hoping for

I know, dear. There is low oxygen in a hamster ball, but you're told: "keep running! Keep running!" and you're like, "What the hell, Defender of Whatever, don't you know I need a break? It's getting really hot, but my heart is cold; I'm sleepless, but restless; my thoughts are stale, and my everything is irrelevant!" and the Defender of Whatever is all: "Mercy is for cowards! And, you, you're no coward, you're an American!" and then you respond, ever defiantly: "Where I exist has nothing do to with why I exist." The Defender of Whatever explodes…

i want you to tangle your fingers in my fields of hair and daisies and pull me close to you like i am an oxygen mask and you are on a plane that is higher than you ever thought you'd be.

To feel like porcelain,
fragile and easy to break
is something I'm no stranger of

Now to feel like
stone,
solid and dense,
is something I know nothing of

But to feel like
oxygen,
impenetrable, flawless;
to be the air that fills your lungs
is all I aim to be

It feels like holding your breath
until your lungs ache and your ribs creak
because your heart is beating so fast
complaining for lack of oxygen
but you won't
you won't breathe
who cares if it hurts?
who cares if your throat burns
and your eyes water?
for even water is part oxygen
and perhaps the pain would stop
if you inhale
and find two parts hydrogen as well.

sure, silent jump into thin air
and the oxygen spreads over my mouth
like a blanket, leaving me
gasping and falling
and reaching out
i'm in a hurry to breathe
i'm in a hurry to hit the ground
running

and it's colder than i thought cold could be
you know, i never imagined
myself freezing to death
and i like to think that's why i'm here again
grasping onto thin fingers of warmth
moving in closer to share breath
and forget the frosted trees above
i like to think it's that fear
that keeps me coming back
and not the simple comfort
not the feeling, not the thoughts
as i step outside for a moment
to freeze the words
before they can take hold of my tongue
and voice themselves

i like to think it's the ease
with which i sink into this depth
that keeps me from staying outside
and not the need that i ignore, masking
it as something more innocent
material, consistent
warm and partially true

i like to think it's the fear
that keeps me up at night
and not the warm comfort
i feel when i'm thinking of you