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.