Friday, January 20, 2012


The air gets trapped in a small pocket under my left breast, the harder I fight the more it constricts. The pain is a welcome reminder of my existence it is my burden, my gift, my grace. And I will always fight, forcing the blood from my soul as a sacrifice on the altar of breath itself. What is it to live without pain? I’m not sure I want to know. What would motivate me to move past this moment?

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