On Breathing

the first breath after shavasan is a small gasping reminder that i am human in a world that would ask me to succumb to the monstrous thing we all have hidden away beneath layers of chatterbox masks and charmer laughs

 

it is an awakening that seals my heart behind my ribcage instead of leaving it on my sleeve where it’s so easy for me to tear into it, rip off chunks to give and give and give and never take back

 

it is a delicate stream of tears and a shout of bloody murder and a squealing giggle of tickled bones

 

it is the breath that pulls me back and makes me — me

 

it is the declaration of love that can never be revoked, never be stolen, never betrayed

 

it is the salve to frayed nerves — cut and splayed in a vain effort to conceal everything that i feel 

 

it is the ounce of control taken after years of fumbling

 

give and give and give — and in one breath — finally remember to take it all back