one days i do want to breathe. i cry. watch depression coat itself around my conscious. i plead. i plead with God to rescue me. on days i do not want to breathe...i don’t. i hold my breathe for as long as i can to see if i could..stop. and i don’t. i’ve never been good at stopping what is so meant to be. so on days i do not want to breathe...i do. i slither air into my lungs..anyway. find happiness within air particles. i sit up straight. i feel my chest cavity enlarge. i clench my fist. i do. i do. i do. i choose to stay.
on days i don’t want to breathe....i do anyway