Marching/Breathing

Every day I am slowly being forced
to keep moving. My body is marching
to it’s funeral and I am just along for

the ride- the world doesn’t care about how
you keep up. You simply must. And if your
bones are ground to dust, it is just a side effect

of dealing with yourself every single
day. Does it get better? Will I ever
hear my own heartbeat and smile? Will I ever hear

the future sliding up to my past and
want to laugh? Right now, the world is moving
like lightning, when all I want to do is breathe again.

Right now, the future knocks and I just hide.
Right now, I only want to breathe freely.
Right now, I am stifled by the thought of moving.

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