On the Greenline

A vision in the window. Seeing myself not here nor there, but somewhere where the air is sweet and the light is soft.
Somewhere where I feel like I truly belong.
Toxic air is all we breath, from some tank you hardly see. Now I feel my lungs that are slowly collapsing in me. Without words my throat runs dry, to the point where I can no longer swallow my pride.
Here I am laying on my side. Crying every night. Feeling as if I died, that one Thursday night.