Time to breathe is a luxury,
many do not have the privilege,
a condition for recovery,
confused often with forgiveness.
Time ticks faster – lungs clench,
pressure mounts further inside,
enemies to avenge,
memories like cyanide.
There is no freedom from this tyranny,
like vines weaving through the undergrowth,
holding you to the earth – in captivity,
the past is like a murderer – cutthroat.
Time to breathe is not possible when dead,
life is your only time to salvage your liberty,
the story which follows is still unread,
the chance to respire remains a possibility.