Jane E. Babin
Cell 2 Soul. 2006 Winter; 2(4):a9
Breath of life,
i took advantage of your regularity;
not respecting every inhale
not inspired by every exhale
'til those companion winds in me were quelled.
I cling to life, dependent.
breaths in me, now paced and scored,
travel godless vinyl tubing to a hole in my throat.
This artificial being I do not recognize as me
Forever tethered to a box I test my sanity
to think I will never again breathe free.
It is the disquieting panic flowing through me like a stormy breeze I fear;
I cannot go with it. I cannot breathe through It., caring not where it will take me,
hoping it will end without the awful trauma I fear
Acceptance is a fleeting thing and sometimes not at all.