Waiting to Exhale

I’ve heard it been said that life is but a vapor.

It comes through strong and fast — then it’s over.

I often think of my own vapor as I take deep breaths sprawled across my bed. I take too many breaths there.

Or maybe I’m holding my breath. My vapor.

Maybe that’s why there’s tension in my chest. A tightness forming through the unreleased potential. Why I am lying here instead of reaching up to the sky — the limit. There is vapor there.

I guess I could just shift. A new position. A relief to the effort that is currently holding me in place.

Because holding it all in can kill. No one wants to die waiting to exhale.