My lungs feel heavy, weighed down by the bitter scent of
almonds and I swear, I swear, I can feel them start to stain -
just like the walls, colour starts to creep along my innards in
shades of blue. It burns, it fu.cking
burns so bad but there's nothing to do but wait. I do so
for what feels like hours, my lungs melting like a hot knife
into butter, but nothing. Nothing at all. My arms ache and
blister but still I'm gasping shallowly, like a baby taking
its first breath. This is my first breath, after spending so
long suffocating, after so long struggling and pining and
feeling jealous over anyone who had the privilege to
breathe. It hurts, it hurts a lot, and I don't
understand how everyone else around me can breathe so easily,
like it's second-nature, while I struggle with something
meant to be so basic. For so many years I've wanted to
breathe like that, like everyone else. And here I am - gasping,
phlegm in my mouth - wishing I was doing anything but.