A Breath



‘You can’t jump the track; we’re like cars on a cable,
And life’s like an hourglass glued to the table.
No one could find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands,
And breathe.’
-Anna Nalick (Breathe)

            A breath.  If we take one, we’re going to have to lose one.  That, I’m afraid, is something inevitable.

A breath.  She took one.  Just one.  A long, deep, drawn out breath, as though she thought it were her last.
Her eyes clenched shut, trembling fingers cradling her head as she rubbed furiously at her temples as though it would provide her even the slightest bit of comfort.
            She took another breath.  Slower this time.  Futilely trying to match the short gasps with the pounding drum of her heart.  Perhaps, this time, she would actually manage to get enough of it into her clenching lungs. 

We gain some.  We lose some.  There are always the bright, sunny days of bliss and then there are also the dark, stormy nights of wrath.
                        Without hate there is no love and without lies there is no truth.  With that said, I guess we can conclude that without drawing a breath, there is no need to lose one and without losing a breath, there is no need to take one.
            Perhaps, that is why this wisp of priceless silver is considered to be the essence of life, itself.

            Her demons called out to her, cold fingers grasping at the fragile thoughts swimming in the back of her mind.
            Thoughts that were meant to be forgotten.
            Thoughts that should’ve been abandoned long ago.

            ‘When the darkness comes, it is a force not to be reckoned with.’
            Dark days and stormy nights are the silver lining to a rather piercing white set of clouds. 

            The ghost of a breath left her lips as she tried to find even the slightest bit of warmth in the darkness her mind dwindled upon.

            The sun may always be shining on the other side, but right here, right now, those strands of gold that peak through even the blackest of clouds are what make this life the one that’s worth living.

            Hesitantly, she made an effort to stand, plastering a wavering smile on her quivering lips.
            ‘Breathe,’ she whispered to herself,’ just breathe.’


            Life isn’t perfect.  If it was, there would be no need to draw a breath in the first place.




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