The tightening in my chest,

at best,

is the result of my missing breath.

Nevertheless– I take in words like air.

There are things I wish I could say,

Some feelings I wish I could lay on your mind

if you don’t mind–

But then, I might.

Real-talk now: there’s a little trouble,

Doubling over double.

Karma’s a bitch, and that’s something you can’t just fix;

Your bubble’s gonna pop.

You want to be bigger than big,

but you’re tripping over steps–

Baby steps–

Overstepping boundaries–

Bound to find solace in your own personal binds:

Break them.

I don’t mind, but then again–

You might.


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