Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Maybe it's howling

it’s the moment right before you drown
when your lung are burning and you have no air left
But you haven’t yet tasted the salty water
If you could pause that moment
that exact second, perhaps you could understand
It’s not the letters on your computer screen
or the long hours you didn’t sleep
It’s not the tears on your fingertips
glistening in the moonlight
It isn’t the pint of mint chocolate ice cream
nor the dead plants in your window garden
or the fact that your hair is a mess
it’s inside you
and it’s loud
it keeps you going
it’s what makes it so you can scream
it’s red and never rests
it’s fierce and unfair
it rips at you
it leads you
it’s what makes it all worth it
It’s the howling of your heart

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