Breathing gets harder
as he strengthens his grip.
The chest tightens, and
the pulse quickens
the mind races into dark corners.
“Remember the mantra.”
Is whispered under the breath,
eyes close in desperate
attempt to bring the mind
back into the light.
His voice screams
inside the mind,
drowning out all rationale.
The stomach turns.
The throat constricts.
The world spins.
“Breathing Exercises.”
In for four beats, hold for seven, out for eight.
Worlds most relaxing song
makes the walls cave-in.
Grab for the headphones.
turning on hard rock
with meaningful lyrics,
it pours into the ears
and fills the mind,
drowning out the static noise
of anxiety.
With each drumbeat,
he loosens his hold,
airways open,
and the pulse regulates.
Eyes close relishing
in the relief music
has given
as it saves the day.
Nostalgia burns the eyes
as it plucks one’s heartstrings
to a familiar tune of a forgotten melody,
that gets stuck in our heads,
and we hum along
though we don’t know the words.
At first, one’s stomach sinks with the news
that things are changing,
and the realization that leaving home
is permanent this time.
We forget the tight embrace community has
until it comes together,
to wish us good luck on impending journeys,
and to help us up as life knocks us down.
We forget our impact
until someone presents us with a life touched
by our kindness and a smile.
We forget that people care
until we see it,
gifts of farewell for remembrance,
the cracking voices,
the miss you’s, the thank you’s,
the welling of tears in the corners of eyes.
Nostalgia hurts
even when it’s feeling better
because we can never relive the past,
only remember it
as it gradually fades into nothing but a memory.