Poetry · Writing

a wanderer through toxic space

and through that space

he sought a moment

a moment where space wasn’t suffocating

and they could breathe;

away from these fumes left from yesterday

the suffering of those before left to rot

to choke the present

and the gift was this moment-

where we let our guard down;

let the space travel past

arms open wide

a space

where existing isn’t a bother

a crime

where existing is a gift

 

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