7:50am November 15, 2014

“

With my new nightly bread
I focus less on the grip of my toes
The world will not fall from under me
I will not wake up beneath it
—once a mantra, now a life

The dots on my charts
I use to track my hyperventilations—
The times each week that the world roars
and I shrink
have more space between them
They are sleeping easier now,
linked by my small white pills

I’ve adjusted now
So it feels like natural movement
A train that goes on
Smoke that rises, as smoke does
for of course
Of course
This must be how the rest of the world breathes

”

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