Babies Breath
Been praying lately, yet not a single lyric slipped these lips,
from breath-holding agony and anger.
A black drop, and another one, painted this lake with poetry, I resist, I resist not the temptation to swim in pollution.
Lacking the courage to sign a standstill agreement with the self I already befriended or betrayed, am no judge, but the frogs, the frogs hop, as their nature commands.
Been playing lately, yet not a single smile slipped these lips,
from knowing, where can I withdraw the ash of this soul?
A jar, and another one, painted the wind with vivid laughter, or bursting cry, the baby, the baby’s breath couldn’t resist the temptation to live.
In darker clouds, yet the drops remained transparent, an open interpretation to hydrate (no, autocorrection, I wrote hydrate not prevent, we wanted to moisturize the paper, therefore, make it too heavy to take off, capisce?) an envelope from turning to a paper airplane.
Been dying lately, yet not a single step faltered these hips.
From walking, further than yesterday.
Stress hormones are meant for good.
I will take not a pill, and not an extra advice and run straight to hell and back just to distinguish between the lines, I cross unapologetically.
To become, somewhat alive on this…
