Never Breath

Never Breath

A Poem by Quattro Hall

Things that hurt my soul are things that life shows you. It seems those things are the things I cannot live without; I hurt for that feeling but its stays me with fear thinking about what it means to have it. I fear what the pain would be like. I cringe at the idea of it.

 

Like a cigarette burning so dose my sanity. Slowly it comes and with one quick release it’s gone. Pain can follow such a release. The ember stares at you with every drag. Like someone laughing at your misfortune making you feel ashamed and destitute.

 

Breathing make you feel hated and stricken. You breathe again and fear the breath. Knowing pain will not resolve. So in fear you are pattering more crazily. Like a mad man you hold your breath yet trying to gasp. Tears come, pain consumes your mind, and you grip harder to life. Not knowing if that is the right thing to do.

 

Opening your eyes will do nothing but return you back to the land from which you came. A Land in which you never wish to return too. Letting go is not easy for a heart that has so much resolve left. Like the cigarette you know the pain will end. Life will go on but you will remember that feeling. It s holds you. It becomes you. Carefully you tread. Holding and hoping, wanting and waiting, staring at yourself, at your fear and as the last smoke filled breath leaves your lungs you ask. Why didn't I hold on longer?

© 2013 Quattro Hall


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I could never have written this better. Kindred spirits will recognize the dark land of Despair here, and nod their heads while reading it. Again it makes me uneasy because it resound with truth and I worry about you. "Like someone laughing at your misfortune making you feel ashamed and destitute." Beautifully exposed writing. I am so sorry that you are intimately acquainted with the same places I am, because they do quite suck, do they not? Perhaps some company on the journey will offer solace ~ i can only hope. Do not ask yourself why you did not hold on longer, Quattro. Simply, hold on. (Read my poem Comes The Dawn, please!) I will, if you will.

Posted 6 Years Ago



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Added on June 3, 2013
Last Updated on December 29, 2013

Author

Quattro Hall
Quattro Hall

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I'm not a good writer. In fact I would say I don't know many people that are worst at grammar then me. Yet I know this, I am dyslexic. I had to teach my self almost everything I know in the ways of r.. more..

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