Choking

I’m not a smoker but my lungs are Black
They creak with every breath I take
And every time I try to relax
Because times are harder now
and we choke on the air we breathe
And they tell us to be stronger
And we try to believe
That maybe things aren’t so bad
And if they are – we pretend
Maybe things will get better some day
And if they don’t – what then?
Because we can’t comprehend
that maybe things aren’t right
Maybe we’ve done this all wrong
Maybe it’s all our fault
And the waves of disaster
continue to crash onto our shores
wiping out our castle of dreams
pouring through our front doors.

Our front doors that we locked
Because we fear the face in the Dark
We shiver from the touch of our friends
and we hide front the gaze of our family

And we choke on the air
and the weight of carrying
what we call A Bad Day
And what they say Will Get Better
They’ve been saying that
It Will Get Better
For a Lifetime -
- of lies, that choke our children
and celebrate the dead.
Trying to sleep with our memories
And taste the gone history
When all that we taste
is the smoke from burning cities
and the tears of crying neighbours
While we throw away our televisions
And shatter our computer screens

- The words blurring and
the lines dancing
the heads spinning and
the air squeezed out of choking lungs
until a gasp of an apology is all that is left
because I didn’t do anything and
I waited for another time
another person
another day

I waited for things to get better
while I tried to say
Sorry – for my black lungs
and the crashing waves of disaster
stuck my head in the sand
wait for all of it to be over.