My eyes swell in a watery fog

imagining mammoths drowning in black tar bogs

Frantic limbs reaching for

the familiarity of home,

the final vision of that place as you sink


Sometimes when I’m sinking

I tilt my chin and discover the color blue

as if I had never seen it before.

As if I had lived my whole life

through tinted lenses and

god herself had broken them before me just now.

A final breath sits in my lungs

waiting for me to release it


When I finally let it go

I am on solid ground again

and I know that vision of home

every mammoth sees just before

its goes limp and accepts that

it was just a feeling,

the one I feel right now

as I go still


That is why I don’t fight anymore

I just let storms chase me

and fill my lungs with tar and

paint the whole world black when I cough


Because when the sky clears,

you can wipe up your mess

with the back of your sleeve,

and you realize you’ve never seen color like this,

not really.




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