There comes moments during the day when drawing breaths inwards seem to be an exercise only seasoned athletes can do…
When every inhale and exhale takes huge mental effort to execute…
And as the difficulty increases, so does the panic…

The biology of my brain seem to have changed since your departure,
and whatever tiny organ that is meant to regulate breaths is on a break of its own…
I’m only left with an inner will that diminishes as the reality of the moment sink in…
I tell myself to focus one breath at a time…
And I breathe in grudgingly…
And breathe out, only to be surprised that this exercise has to be repeated for yet another time…

Breathe in…
Oh, God this is so painful…
Breathe out…
I can’t do this any longer…
Breathe in…
Talk to me, brother…
Breathe out…
I’m tired…

But that’s the way it is, brother…
Ever since you left, even the mundane seems unbearable…
Every futile action has to be relearned and rewired…
And nothing feels more futile this moment than continuing to breathe and clinging to life…