You sit in silence on the terrace sipping your coffee.
You try to convince yourself that fresh air will
stop this feeling of suffocation.
Haven’t you realized by now it’s all in your head?
Pen to paper
You sit in silence on the terrace sipping your coffee.
You try to convince yourself that fresh air will
stop this feeling of suffocation.
Haven’t you realized by now it’s all in your head?
Coffee is a refreshing drink as well as your beautiful poem!
Thank you!
reminds me of an old song lyric by Paul Simon
the dangling conversations
and the superficial sighs
the borders of our lives
indeed it is, as are most anxieties
I was never suffocating. Stale air: yes; suffocation: no.
What fresh air? The planet’s O2 levels are kinda low.
The last sentence is a trite meaningless statement regurgitated by the population for who knows what reason (only sociologists and etymologists perhaps?).
It is all in the head. True that.