the art of being breathless

the air is a limited time offer a limited time luxury i sit under a lamppost and let the light pour down on me as i tell you over and over again that it’s me that’s the lucky one and i promise i’ll get to you backstab my demons and all of the no-you-cannots my brain is the vilest bully i’ve ever known shown me the hideous things i am capable of i can accept this world for its fallen ashes fallen kingdoms fallen heroes fallen faces i can respect the efforts to tame to tarnish to retreat and i’ll sit under the sun one day no more artificial light and i’ll see you there sitting with snakeskin pride and the grass is just a haven not a home we have no home no holy land to unwind unweave humanize no place to hide our faults and our worn-down weak weary faces and i’ll wonder why nothing ever breaks you i’ll wonder how you’ve become so resilient and i know this world is full of have-me-nots love-me-nots leave-me-nots fear-me-nots forget-me-nots and i realize people can never really see themselves completely no 360 degree no bird’s eye no head on collision no keyhole peephole porthole view they can only see how they affect other people they can only see other people there standing under the streetlight never seeing behind below above around themselves full of reasons to let go reasons to pay no mind reasons to misinterpret reasons to close their eyes in the darkness close their mind to the light completely covered in blind spots

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