The Inescapable Truth

This air is the height of a thousand men
weighing down like bricks on my chest,
beating my heart deep in this mess that makes up my mind.
Sweet caress, a slight brush against me,
washes away all the impurities of yesterday.
The mysteries begin to consume me,
chaotic thoughts of what the tumultuous future brings.
Men's eager search for our homes demise,
for self recreation, for self.
All engaging sensations of the right cortex's elations,
When will it ever be enough?
Is enough all there is to please you?
The suffocation is returning,
its taunting visit elegantly streaming down the windpipe only to seal it shut.
The heavy motion of your step solidifies it.
It leaves me stranded in between the then and now,
which time really exists?
Today moves with the wind and I demand to be released of all the restrictions my mind imposes on me.
The imprisonment of self is such a pitiful state to escape.
Now raise the glasses you claim to be full and drink to the freedom we state to own.