When fresh air
Stale air can seem fresh and
Poisoned air, exciting.
Only when your chest is constricted
And you lie hunched against a wall
Tears streaming down, staining the floor
Will you realize what you gave up
Perhaps I spent so much time breathing stale air
That I forgot the taste of moist morning fogs
Forgot the sound of rumbling storms
The sting of crisp blue mornings
And lost myself in thick billowing gas.