breathe

My friend Ja P. wrote this poem on the wall of our poetry clubhouse

It's sorta wack:

These days, as i try to breathe, something besides oxygen or carbon travels my airway

creating a back-alley of my esophagus

in it a tunnel of a dark and foggy city 

it just rained and you can hear the final splatters come down from the rooftops, greet the gravel in solemn gratitude for the end of their travels

my throat is just catching

and i can feel the fog leave its gutter door,

disperse down to my chest

and take from me all the seratonin I've ever known

holy shit i just want to feel something, 

anything that's not so fucking suffocating

Sorry Ja P.