Breathe.

Breathe.

By Divya Verma

Far too long spent 

Gasping 

Running farther and farther away 

To now hold still, to take a deep breath.

So here I stand. 

Short breaths misting in the air 

They hang, above my head, 

Foreboding. 

Waves break on weathered rock 

Louder than memory serves. 

I resist surrender 

To the siren call 

To coalesce into the noise. 

The shimmering lights up ahead–both

Man’s towering bid to conquer the skies

And a stellar universe beyond 

Stood stark against the darkness of night

They are spotlights, directing me center-stage

Scaring me off. 

Cheering me on. 

For my best performance yet. 

Fear rears its monstrous head 

And for what? A meager audience 

Of none but one?

Dread pools and so does the sweat. 

But all of that goes entirely unnoticed. 

Nothing floats in dead water 

No words wash up with salty waves 

They sink, heavy, to the inky depths 

Too far gone for my yearning hands. 

So here I stand 

Left to fend for myself. 

Seas of crowds mill around for miles 

I find my comfort in their numbers. 

Teeth grind hard against teeth 

Mouth dried up for the want of words. 

In the end, some do force their way out 

Met with a blank stare and a cold grimace 

They float away, dissipate like fog after a winter’s sunrise.

Words meant to breathe into me fresh life 

I watch them drift off into oblivion, 

Sail away to irrelevance on the horizon 

And here I stand again 

Gasping. 

Alas, for air that never came.