artionelle

The sides of my mouth create a dense pocket of air
I suck them in and hold my breathe
Here we fucking go again
Down into this weird place where I see darkness and light glimpses of sparkles
This if the state of life hanging in the balance
The state of unconscious weeping
We have no faces here
We just sit
Arms and legs folded, eyes straightforward
There's never enough air for me here
My lungs begin to cave in
My eyes roll back
Weightless in that same state of life hanging in the balance
I feel nothing
I feel no fear
No comfort
No shame
Nothing
And in the second before I come back
This life of mine flashes before my eyes
I grasp onto your memory
And pull my way back through
Breaking through the pitch black shades that engulf my whole being
Giving my lungs one good last squeeze for air
I find my way back to you