This Air, That Sky


Tell me why my
Punctured lungs are
Still
Swallowing the desperate air
I’m surprised-
Swollen under the filtered sun
-That they are not charred black

I thought the sky would kill me
At this point between
Pure white bushels of sun-streaked desires
To seek noble things and that
Silent hollow beneath
Filled with echoes from the future;
‘It doesn’t last, it doesn’t last’

But my blue veins tug my
Heart strings
Pumping through with agony, I take
A step closer to that voice-
I know I descend a little more into darkness
Every day
But I must
I would give it all up for a centre of everlasting truth
But there is none
And I float in reasonless space

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