Dive 

—

So maybe then I do.
Maybe then, I do think too much and maybe then, I do feel too much
But if I didn’t think and I didn’t feel
then how could I have ever found the words to describe the way your body hit mine like a hurricane.

How, then, could I have ever been able to say
That this abundance of snow if just the sky’s only way
of dropping pieces of crumbling clouds down on our too-warm skulls so we can feel them.
That our skin is just our thuman version of bark only stretched too thin.
That our tired breath in the morning is just the taste
of the time that has passed pressing and clinging to our teeth.
Or, how each time I press my face against cold walls of glass
I am reminded of how often we are protected by such thin and fragile things.

We used to believe that the human body couldn’t free-dive further than 500 ft.
Now keep this in mind when I tell you that a friend of mine once told me that she believes
that God only gives us as much hardship as we can handle.
But last week I learned that a man in Austria dove past 702 feet in a single breath.
That is over 70 stories in a matter of minutes.
With lungs that shrank to the size of oranges.
Now let that sink in.

Now I don’t have much to say about free-diving or god,
except that if such a thing were to exist then I believe that he underestimated us.
Because, I believe that we are capable of things that we don’t even fully understand.
But of course, on the other hand
If you want to free-dive, you have to first jump in.

This year, make yourself a resolution to test the boundaries of your skin
Build yourself up with words, until you’re sweating out the ink.
Do not allow the blood around your bones to stagnate,

like dirty water around dishes in the sink
Never let your passions become things that become extinct.
Fill your own glass, fill it too-full, and take a fucking drink.
Allow yourself to feel it.
Then, force yourself to think.

This year,
Keep trying twist your body into a thunderstorm

You will be fast and loud but never forgotten.
Be like the sky, and scatter yourself like the stars.
Until you can feel galaxies forming around your fingertips.
Until your lungs are coughing out comets with the force of your breath,
And this planet is trembling from the force of your steps.

This year,
Rip  open your rib cage, like cabinet doors,
And be like the quick, red, thing that lives in your chest.
Our heartbeats are the echoes that demand to be heard.