3-0 | Air

25 5 0
                                        

Air


I tried to grasp air

the air I liked,

not just any air.


This air was special

quite different from the rest.

I wanted it,

but it just wanted to disperse from my hand.


It played through my finger tips

danced around my very senses.

Toyed with my breathing pattern

until it started suffocating me.

Making me unable to inhale what I need.


The air had lost oxygen

it kept feeding me carbon.

The dioxide got to my lungs,

yet I still wanted to breathe it.


Why can't the air I like want to be grasped?

It's being stubborn.

It won't work with me.

I'm breathing in air's carbon

and I still need oxygen.


I don't understand why,

but I want... this air.

And it won't want me.



InsanityWhere stories live. Discover now