Poetry

Toxic

My lungs hunt for fresh air,

snatching in every touch of breeze they can.

But recently the freshness can’t be found.

The air is choking. Curling smoke and fumes

culminate into balls and whack themselves

into my system.

I can feel it, but no one else seems to notice.

The vapour from their own breath

comes out black.

Poetry

Throw me your voice

Your voice can turn my head no matter what task I’m at,

lift my nose from any book, draw my eyes to your face

even if you’re nowhere near.

It can still my heart in the most anxious of moments,

ease my breath

and restore the balance to my mind.

Whether only in my my thoughts or right here beside me,

you are the remedy

to all my doubts.