Winged Words

There is pressure on my chest

Like someone attempted CPR

But only compressed,

                compressed,

                compressed.

I can’t seem to get a deep breath.

Somewhere along the way

My voice succumbed,

Going numb

To escape from

The pain of experiencing

My shallow use

of its capacity.

I wasn’t even aware,

Until today,

And wonder if it’s been this way

For days?

Or weeks?

How long have I been asleep

To my own stifled screams?

My throat clenched

As if to hold the rationed air inside

While also giving my words

A place to hide.

They tumble down my larynx through

The dark tunnels of my ribs

Trembling from the intensity

Of my reversion to inexpressibility.

You see, I got busy.

Doing

Doing

Doing

Instead of just being.

Each line of my to do list

Like another lace on a corset

Tightening,

Constricting.

Until today…

When in a quiet moment

I took a slow intentional sip of air.

My chest expanding, creating space.

I listened as my inhale

Whispered gentle encouragement.

The first brave words

Grasping the kite tails of my breath

When it paused in the depths,

Then rising up and out

As the exhale breathed wings

Onto my voice,

As it is meant to be. 

Free.