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Inhalers

Trauma, the Friendly Follow-Up

By Dylan DamesPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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I still have 3 inhalers in my room,

Although I haven’t been choked in years.

They collect dust—

Ironic ain’t it!

When I got choked, it would

Start in my chest, then pull my neck,

Drain my eyes and drill my head,

I pedaled a ghost bicycle.

Then I started swimming

And breathing, and laughing

And breathing.

I still got choked:

I couldn’t avoid the pull

Only sit through it,

And be wheeled away again.

But in a few hours, breathing and breathing.

When I stopped getting choked,

I kept my inhalers.

A man doesn’t refund his burglar bars

Just because the burglaries stop.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Dylan Dames

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