I'm Still Breathing.

Life cannot be measured in flat lines
And people are not things we easily forget.
We can sometimes feel the passage of time
Like wind on our arms.
Fraying our clothes
We stand as one frail body
The center of our own universe;
Everything derived from a singular perspective
Goings ins and goings outs from the same source
And we go through denial, and joy, and pain, and celebration
As if it were the only thing in the world.
We forget that we can endure.
We remember that we are entirely our own.