I can’t live despite my body.
I inhale and hold – searching for stillness, but the static spreads from chest down to my fingertips.
I hold still, as my lips utter and sputter. I am productive, producing. Surfacing, without exhaling.
I exhale, despite myself, and feel the weight of my eyelids, shoulders, head sinking.
There is more in me – I swim through the static towards the transparency of my goals. There is a surface, right?
I inhale and hold – and my body floats on.