Breathe

This was a poem for the very young, very foolish version of me. These words I still think about every day, and I want to share them with those who find themselves needing something. Originally written: 2/13/11

If I could go back in time
To the moment I heard myself die,
I would stride towards me softly
And set a consoling hand upon my shoulder,
As if I was one of those creatures called human beings.
And just like humans do, I would give me a gentle squeeze and say:

"Breathe. Let yourself breathe. Let yourself live.
Offer yourself something. Something which cannot be lost.
Breathe. Fix yourself..as everyone expects you to.
You'll see. You'll see."

And maybe my deceased self
Would turn and look up at me.
Dead eyes. Cold wheels. Nothing but a whisper.

"You don't make sense," my dead self would say.
"You don't make sense. Breathing hurts and doesn't help.
Looking at the Ocean - he takes my breath anyways,
And the Ocean is all I see.

My dead self, would sit unconvinced.
What would I say to change my mind?
...
I would say:

"Breathe. Let yourself breathe. Let yourself live.
Offer yourself something. Something which cannot be lost.
Breathe. Fix yourself..as everyone expects you to.
You'll see. You'll see."

What would my past do then?
Would she fight and run back to the familiar pains which the Ocean caused?
Or would the dead - with that faint whisper - come to life?
Would my once-cold eyes blink and erupt
With a new-found fire?
A fire which the Ocean could not put out?

Maybe the fire would spread about my dead body.
Maybe I would look up at myself again
With the old, long lost smile
Which hadn't been seen in years...
Would my alive again self say,
"Maybe you're right..." and with a deep breath
Continue:

"Breathe. I'll let myself breathe. I'll let myself live.
I will offer myself something which cannot be lost.
I will breathe. Fix myself..as I expect me to.
You'll see. You'll see."

Originally written: 2/13/11

The End

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