Lung Capacity

No seats left at the back of the bus
«I really don’t think I can do this»
Left fist clenched and right hand around my throat
Severe lack of trust in the person behind me
Held out until I got to Grassmarket
Whispered «thank you», stepped off and exhaled
Then walked home as fast as I could whilst trying to ignore the wind
And hail
I should have listened to my own advice
Or better yet not ignored all of yours
Like when you said not to light the candle at both ends
Or else I’d soon have nothing left to burn
And that it didn’t matter which way I turned
Because the wind would cut through anyway
Then in came the shin splints and that sandstorm
Inside my lungs that slows me down every time
Coughing up dust, I sat alone on the pavement
And I prayed that any moment I’d see the sun
Breaking through all of those dark clouds
Overhead that never seem to ever slow down
But I just sat in the dark until there was nothing left to cough up