la forêt/la lutte
there is a struggle
to feel human,
to part a veil of pain,
to dance in languid fields
of soft green moss,
and recline on sweet things,
there is a struggle
to stop choking,
stop thinking
and to breathe in
clean air,
free of dry sharpness,
free of grey clinging smoke,
what about the heaviness,
that weighs around one’s neck,
that holds you under, stifling,
drowning, gurgling,
closing my eyes
I wish it away.
small things exist in vastness,
it takes but one to see
to open the eyes and look
to feel, to break, to tremble,
and wonder if life
as you may know it
is just irony,
voids and pains
or something more.