race to cycles 

Like feeling so relieved
you could puke.
So relieved you can’t breathe.
So relieved your body
doesn’t know how to
not be in high gear.
Doesn’t know what it means
to have enough air to breathe.
Too much air to breathe.
Like fall to your knees
I could weep because
I don’t know how to
thank the stars and universe
that somehow it worked out.
For a little while. Resetting
the countdown clocks,
I don’t know any other sounds
lately but ticking bombs.
I flinch with loud calls and clocks. 
Reminders. Reminders. Reminders.
How am I suppossed breathe when everything is a countdown?
Everything is a cycle and a race
to the next line
that looks like the last line
that looks like mirror
against another mirror. 
I don’t know any way to push forward
that doesn’t also snap me back. 
Don’t know any ways out of holes 
except building into new ones.
Don’t know how I’ve made it again,
to the next line anyway… 

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