loudness

Leaning out of the window with a handful of hope

As the world whirs past working to rip it away, 

With each passing day, the journey is to cope

Instead of live while making the best of each day.

Tendrils of tension tighten their unforgiving grasp 

Stealing the ability to breathe and think and comprehend. 

To do more than barely function creates a blur, a trap, 

Of spiky moments of stress with apparently no end. 

If a breath of fresh air could just make its way

Inside, just a puff of calm and cool, 

There might be a chance to stay or at least delay

The suffocation pushing away renewal. 

Trepidation like a rolled up window in a car

In summer and you can't get out, 

Not knowing how long or how far 

You have to live unable to see, unable to feel—so you shout.