breathe the full breath

Breathe in the quiet terror that lives beneath your skin, the one that’s counting their heartbeats and breaths and pills and wondering how long you can last in limbo without completely turning in on yourself.

Breathe out they’re still here.

Breathe in the irritation that snaps out of you like sparks from your fingertips, manifests in sharp tugs and sour expressions and gritted teeth.

Breathe out the blessed break that comes from bubble baths and steamy fiction, from laughing at yourself and the toddler who still stamps her feet within you.

Breathe in the depression, the grey days marching on and blending, the peaked not this again–I thought I was past this, the jagged blade that’s set against the soft thrum of your heart, tapping I don’t know how to live–I’m wasting this one life.

Breathe out piping hot tea with cream and raw sugar, the clumps of snow gathered at your sill, the loosening of the threads in your chest as you remember the key, the saving grace, is, has been, and always will be, being gentle with yourself.

Breathe in the low energy, the apathy, the dwindled motivation. 

Breathe out poetry, your mother’s laughter, your sister’s tight hugs, Kouign-amanns.

Breathe in the to-do lists, the taxes, the unfolded laundry, the bed lacking sheets because you were too damn tired to deal with the fitted one.

Breathe out fire, the kind that flashes from the heart. Breathe out good enough. Breathe out my place is here. Breathe out my worth is not in question. Breathe out the resilience, the green leaves of hope, the buzzing brain.

Breathe in the pain of the phantoms around you who have known darkness and suffering and aloneness and cruelty, who can’t help but hurt.

Breathe out the knowing you’re all in this together. Breathe out everything is welcome here, no emotion left behind. Breathe out the song you’ve been waiting to sing your whole life, never needing permission after all, and find it was you all along who was the song.

Keep breathing with us.