Don't Hold Your Breath
by Joshlyn Aguirre
The first clean breaths after a near decade of
Toxic fumes invading my nostrils
was a constant rejoice!
My sentence was over—I had done my time
In the city.
No smog, no weight on my shoulders.
Bits of dust tickle my nose,
falling through the light— shining through the trees.
Back into the wilderness, the place I truly belong.
I am an animal and the city holds me in captivity; forever trapped by its tall buildings
that hold me prisoner— when I breathe
run, jump, scream, throw my hands in the air
It’s a constant rejoice!
No longer in the city that trapped me
Suffocated for so long; the presence of the buildings looming over me;
an attempt at compensation for where
they fall short. They fall short in the warmth and space
that nature provides.
Warm light filtered through the trees
forming non-recreatable shapes.
Natural symmetry, perfection from imperfection
Everything in the city is a product of man
Manufactured materials up to my chin,
tiptoeing to the deep end.
Enough to swim in is enough to drown in.
Drowning throws a wrench into my machinery of breathing,
Didn't know that I was choking until I started
to breathe again.