The time of holding tight is over
This held breath, a cage
Of constricted ribs and stasis
Your secrets are your own
Hidden beneath old layers
Of childhood debris
Suffocated and suffocating
I can no longer search for them
Dive into the tangled nets
And rusted memories
Claw my way through muck
Hoping to find that one key
I have been under too long
Breath held until my muscles
Forgot that they are tides
Meant to move endlessly
Expand. Retreat.
I spit your dirt out of my mouth
Gulping, I breathe in
Fill my stale lungs
With movement and song
Work at breathing
Until it is no longer
My habit to hold. And wait.
Now, I will ask myself:
Is there space for my breath?
Is there space for my voice?
Is there space for truth?
Is there space for beauty?
Is there space for flow?
And never give away my airspace again.