In then out. Out then in.
Feel it touch your face while you sleep.
It seeps through cracks. Windows and doors.
The slightest space lets it in.
Buy foam to stuff into every space.
Seal it with pink caulk.
In then out. Out then in.
It comes back without fail.
You’re suffocating. It is too.
It needs your breath. It screams at the window.
It bangs the trees together. It begs for you.
You don’t need it in your lungs anymore.
In then out. Out then in.
Gasp. Feel how there’s nothing in your chest.
Lungs with nothing in them.
It feels wonderful. It feels free.
Quiet blankets the night. You feel relieved.
Lights fade, sound dulls, peace enters.
In then out. Then out, then never again.
