Your lungs fill & spread themselves,
wings of pink blood, and your bones
empty themselves and become hollow.
When you breathe in you’ll lift like a balloon
and your heart is light too & huge,
beating with pure joy, pure helium.
The sun’s white winds blow through you,
there’s nothing above you,
you see the earth now as an oval jewel,
radiant & seablue with love.
It’s only in dreams you can do this.
Waking, your heart is a shaken fist,
a fine dust clogs the air you breathe in;
the sun’s a hot copper weight pressing straight
down on the think pink rind of your skull.
It’s always the moment just before gunshot.
You try & try to rise but you cannot.
--Margaret Atwood
One of my favorite authors. How is she able to express such feelings? So many feelings. These words are so fitting. So very heart wrenching-ly real. I lived this, waking up from a dream. Feeling out of breath. Gutted. Heart pounding. Held down. Weighted. Too much. All at once. Fleeting and never ending...
Why must waking up be so difficult sometimes? Just out of the blue. Bamm. Welcome to my life and I want nothing more than to relive that dream where it was better than real life. What? Way to start the day.
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