A few of us have the know, but a select few can actually describe
I could call it being breathless, or wanting to not hear
But this is just a run of the mill description, it is nothing like
If you press me to know, know that it feels like dying
It feels like a million storms ride on the waters of the raging sea
To me though, it feels like an elephant, walking ungracefully drunk
Struggling to stand, struggling to not fall, or get up post fall
It feels of a thousand chokeholds, that one may encounter
It feels of a million stars beaming their light, right into my eyes
It overwhelms me, I fail to acknowledge that I could breathe
It is such a folly, of what you deem as normalcy in life
If you want to know life, ask one in the tyranny of rampant allergy
How their insides long to feel the gentle passing of air
We hate the whistles it has, we yet are thankful it does
When it passes, we count our breaths, we live to struggle again
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