i.

[PART-TWO]

Breathe

I see through walls
And smell through dust;
touch through glass,
taste through tears.

Breathe in.

Another painful breath...
take it
in
to stifle
the endless fight for
air.

It is quiet
in the carpenter's workshop.
I am baffled by
the tranquility emitted by
screaming nails driven into a wooden heart.

Blissful crimson
as nails bite my palm
in nervous anticipation
to
breathe again.

Quiet the disruptive pounding,
hush the bubble of life
in its shrill desperation.

The hot air rushes
from between clenched teeth,
and in an instant,
I am facing
peeling, white paint.

Dust against my eyelashes,
glass at my fingertips,
and the tears
sting.

Crimson
to purple...

Breathe out.