fleetinglys: they say that all air is recycled air; that the oxygen I’m breathing right now could...

fleetinglys:

they say that all air is recycled air;

that the oxygen I’m breathing right now could have been

the final breath that stuck in Kennedy’s throat,

or Marie Antoinette’s last sigh.

it’s comforting to know

that I am never really alone;

I’ll always have history rushing to my cells.

But it’s the middle of the night when I’m loneliest.

so I take a deep breath,

and wonder if the air in my lungs

still holds traces of you

(cause I’ll hold my breath forever to keep you with me)