3:07am – On Breathing
I have the most trouble breathing at night
(I think most people do).
I don’t mind spending time with my thoughts, or being alone with myself
(I’ve always enjoyed my own company).
But it’s the fact that at night I have time -
Time to examine.
Time to feel my lungs contracting
As I go through the universe of pieces
That I left unfinished today.
(And then I keep going,
Wading through what I left
Lying on the floor this past week -
Month –
Year –
Lifetime).
And my lungs start to fill with
Water and worry
(Like the house plant
I forgot to water
And tried to save by overcompensating).
I wait for the downpour to recede -
To leak out from between the branches and capillaries;
To get pulled in by the roots
And spread out to a manageable dampness.
But the roots won’t work,
And the water won’t go,
And it’s 3am
And I have to teach myself how to breath all over again.
And again.
And again.
Until my eyes grow heavy and the ocean lies still -
Still enough to reflect the moon outside.
And I stroke my own hand
And focus on my lungs expanding.
On letting myself grow quiet.
On breathing.