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I’m Alive
by
SOAK
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I was already opening a window before the action registered, Clearing my throat, I shook autopilot from my shoulders And welcomed fresh air to spill into my head like the first drag of a menthol cigarette, It’s been a while since I heard my own voice Whirling it’s way through the cogs and cobwebs of my abandoned sense of self, It was a catalyst turning keys in the ignition of my first car, I swear the air came looking for me, Or I for it, subconsciously It douses like a rainy late night drive Where the stop signs are dripping red velvet icing into puddled reflections, Irish hail gripping cars like a one night stand, Lipstick smudging with every wiper swiped Nostalgia lives up to the hype and It makes me feel okay Perplexed, it paralyses like a surprise embrace, I just stand there stoned and laughing with a stupid look on my face I grant myself permission to wake up, I tug the blue bread from my ears, and hold hands with my depression Acting like a transplant patient testing out new eyes, Looking at life as if it were the first time It’s hard to believe the scene, I’m wide eyed by the window in awe at the wonder of simply being, Clouds paint temporary arts on the worlds ceiling, and my one bed apartment feels like a coliseum For a moment I can exhale every mistake I’ve ever made, To create space for lessons I’ve not learnt yet Sugar rushes like a high to soak up the bitterness in me , At full lung capacity, I feel pretty, But in a handsome way When she comes home from work I assume the lenses are faulty, I’d forgotten the effect her presence has on me, A tempestuous tidal wave manifests in her mouth just before she says that she loves me and I’m one sorry motherfucker to have to have ever doubted so I’m alive and I can feel it, I sit with the night in appreciation of my own creation, Of weeds growing on the street adjacent, Of this ability to hear a world in operation I’m alive and I can feel it, When the song Tinseltown by the Blue Nile comes on, When something sits right on my stubborn body type, When she doesn’t know the words but still sings along I’m alive and I can feel it, In a hesitant goodbye on a phone call from back home, In the healing of the ozone layer, In the first crunch of Tayto cheese and onion after months of being deprived I’m alive and I won’t take it for-granted, When my guitar fulfils a pipe dream, When my culinary attempts don’t taste like bin juice, When her naked interpretive dance is accidentally profound. I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive
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