SnowdenA Poem by Nothing PersonalThe flag flutters in the air Hail and mighty the wind that blows through a passing Santa Ana through the length a Katrina through the breadth the air is despicable I cannot find a fresh gulp to breathe living my goldfish dream for everywhere I go, immobility afflicts me and my country follows. the walls are tall and mighty but they crash and close in breathing is a f*****g travesty all hooked on to artificial respirators someone is listening to the awful regurgitation of air breathed in and air breathed out. they make a living out of it they keep us safe and alive we are the constant focus the undivided attention Wonder how they have all this time. Yet the breaches by perpetrators don't stop I feel not only unsafe But claustrophobic trapped in a elevator that has transparent glass doors on all fours I move up and down, everyday same floors I visit every time but it's the sun outside where I would really like to be. I want to watch the water's swirl amoebic life integrate and disintegrate leaves from falling trees kissing the lake a distant lonely horse running through the meadows birds, distant chirping of insects, a tall wooden house by the lake I built myself I want to live in it breathe real air. My psychiatrist asks me to breathe deeply breathe in , relax, breathe out relax Relaxation is the key, he says I presume he has mistaken indifference for relaxation for there's no cure he writes a prescription of xanax and other nameless depressants I still feel suffocated I secretly throw away the pills in the washbasin watch them disappear in the long, slender darkness I know there's no cure for claustrophobia I also know my psychiatrist is claustrophobic too. Time will age us age will change nothing life will wear out but death changes nothing I grow extremely weary fighting these invisible battles When you fight for too long, you forget why you started then the cause seems weak frail meaningless not worthy of attention not worthy of fight so you succumb suck it up still nothing changes I finally take a shotgun and blow my f*****g head-off at last some respite maybe But there's a distant hum-drum in my ears like a jarring noise by millions of vibrations strings colliding with strings atomic and cellular collusion Biometrics, DNA all lay aside it takes a while to realize the noise of artificial respirators will never stop they hum on till eternity for they had never been constructed with an off switch. © 2014 Nothing PersonalReviews
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Added on April 9, 2014Last Updated on April 9, 2014 Tags: Snowden, breathing troubles, claustrophobia AuthorNothing PersonalTXAboutHi !! I don't fuss too much about sharing a name or an identity. I came across this website and found it to be an interesting niche for writers without distinctive labels. It is a great place to befri.. more..Writing
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