Why do we breathe?
We’ve been told that we need to breathe
We don’t really need to breathe
But if we’re going to breathe we need someone to breathe for
No one really breathes for themselves
No one really can breathe for themselves
We’ve been told people stop breathing because it hurts to breathe
But some people breathe even when it hurts to breathe
Because they have someone to breathe for
So what happens when we don’t have someone to breathe for?
Those who don’t have anyone to breathe for will stop breathing
Today someone stopped breathing
because they didn’t have someone to breathe for
Today someone stopped breathing
because they believed they didn’t have someone to breathe for
Today someone stopped breathing
because they forgot they had someone to breathe for
Poet's Note: Breathing: an involuntary response, but one necessary for consciousness. I don't think I choose to breathe, I just breathe. But the irony of that statement is that I can choose not to breathe.
I wrote this poem today (Feb. 28, 20) as I remembered someone who, when faced with a mountain that he felt like he couldn't climb, chose not to breathe. He was 18 years old and was well loved (as evidenced by the hundreds of people that showed up for his funeral).
This isn't a science lesson; this isn't a theology sermon; this is poetry... born out of questions asked when someone stopped breathing. When I started this poem, I wrote for one person, but in the end I wrote for a world filled with people who have stopped breathing for uncountable reasons.
