Thursday, April 3, 2014

03: Breathe

It feels like a rollercoaster,
though my feet remain firmly planted
in the lingering fear and doubt
I cannot seem to brush off. 

I reach without grasping,
as if treading water amidst the air,
flailing, gasping at nothingness,
weary from the mental exercise.

Then you appear and touch me,
fingertips warm against my skin, 
the world slowing around me, 
giving me a chance to step off.

And I can breathe again.

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