Breathing

Breath.
What is air, simply?
For me,
It is a different kind.

The thing to make me
Breathe.
The hidden words unspoken.
The tales beyond and beneath
Ones own very skin.

The scars tell my story,
But no one has seen them.
My story captured.
Treasured.

Don't make me forget
How to breathe.
The words.
The scars.
I need them
To help push me forward.

Take those away
And my heart monitor
Will show no beat.

No breathing.
No life.
No hope.

Reviews

[Jennifer Pennington]

Short, sweet, and definitely packs an emotionally powerful punch! Loved it!

[An owl on the moon]

Such shadows sing through your words, Emily, but I do sense a desire for hope... for another day of breath and life... And yes, though I'm covered in scars, within and without, I know they are the monuments that tell me I survived... and I can go on surviving through much more in the days to come... to breathe again.

[raily]

The words, scars makes you feel living and help you to go forward.It's a very good poem. :)