Poetry: “And Yet I Breathe”.


Sitting here staring out the window

There is a life

Somewhere out there

I can see it

I can smell it

But I can’t touch it

I long to be loved

The way I deserve to be loved

I long for passion

The way passion was meant to be

I long for touch

The way touch should feel

So many hearts so far away

I am surrounded by flying ghosts

I greet them

I talk to them

I tell them my dreams and wishes

They make me false promises

They tell me there is freedom in death

But aren’t they stuck just like I am?

They are right here

Lonely and eager to touch

They are also desperately looking for hearts

They cannot fly away

Like a bird or butterfly

Like I long to be

But they still do get to fly

If nothing else they can do that

At least they get to fly so high!

So are there friends in death?

Are there hearts to seek?

My demon is no more

It is I that have become the demon

I hurt and I break

And I wonder about the reason

My body feels out of place

Like there is a cancer growing inside of me

Could that be the reason for all of this?

My body, the one last thing I want to trust

Is letting me down?

My mind I lost long ago

My trust I lost at age 11

My love I have never felt

My heart is but a piece of flesh that beats

My spirit might have given up the fight

My God is weeping because He cannot reach me

And yet I breathe

Just breathe


~Becca ~


7 Comments Add yours

  1. To breathe is a good thing. Worse is only – not to breathe…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Rebecca says:

      No breathing doesn’t out well 😀

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I think when + degree will come to ur place – you’ll feel much better. It’s just crazy to stay in the winter like this almost whole year around..

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Rebecca says:

      I have decided not to stay…. not just because of the winters… other reasons as well. It’s just too much.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Ok. It’s a good decision I think…

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Rob says:

    What a journey in this! You always say so much that is sometimes just out of reach, but I think I understand. One day you will be on the inside looking out, not the other way around. And many of the things you’ve lost can be regained! The ghosts and false friends will end up talking to themselves because you will be gone baby, gone! So much living yet to do, so much living yet to share, so much joy to paint your desolation purple! It will be a thing to behold!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Rebecca says:

      I truly hope so. I want you to be right.


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