The Desire for Air

 

We used to come through the night

gilded in euphoria.

Then came,

so quick,

the change

that turned our fortunes.

 

We were told

that the future wasn’t real.

We didn’t understand time,

or money,

so we spent both foolishly.

Such is the desire for air.

 

Underwater,

you’d give anything

for one more breath.

Now,

we’re statues,

monuments to memories

of what we were.

 

Trapped?

Perhaps,

but no more so

than when we were young

and free to breathe

the entire ocean in our lungs.

 

Some consider it a curse,

hindsight,

and the craning neck

that one day breaks,

or the tomorrow-born,

always looking a day away.

 

We have the whole ocean.

Space and time

intertwine

and we

can dance in the media.

Always holding our breath

when the day comes,

and we delve back under.

 

Breathe,

another dopamine dream,

like we used to do.

No past,

no gasping for air,

or the next day,

for fear of tomorrow.

 

Nostalgia becomes

another hand

trying to pull us down,

as the Earth moves,

and a tidal wave

is upon us.

 

Inhale.

Exhale.

Take a deep breath.

Here comes a big one.

 

 

HG – 2022