Ungrateful

Ungrateful breathing leaves my lungs, i pray the air will refill me just once more, at least.

There is so many worlds and minds i have yet to see, so many things i have yet to understand or study.

Gasping for the sweet release of oxygen to fill my body and revive what little i have left to live for.

This couldn't be all that i have to leave behind, there's just no way that this could be the final moments of a life so unfulfilled that i can barely keep my eyes open long enough to understand that this may be the point that i can’t turn back from.

They always say changing and growing is the final mistake that so many of us face before we come into our own, but i was so certain that i had reached my own being. I swear, even now in this moment that i am in the one place of life where things make the most sense.

I’ve come to peace of letting go and i’ve made amends with hearts who never broke and minds that never grasped the severity of the action they forced the vessel to act out.

I know, i know that i’ve been my lowest and i've been my highest and all together i know this is not how it should be ending. Me, gasping for air with fire in my throat and sand stinging my eyes.

This clarity is scaring me.

How am i supposed to welcome the release from this life when i am so afraid of what little i have come to understand? I have left too many books unopened, and too many minds un-scavenged for things to go out like this.

With every last bit of believing i have in my bones i will grasp for the air to feed my lungs and i will prevail to the next stage. The fire forcing my screams down will be set free and never hushed and the sand stewing in my eyes will become glass and be fierce with every moving aspect of my being.