Still Standing

I haven't written any poetry for a while, and I'm really not sure about the title, but this is really my first attempt at gentle humour.  It isn't about me, not really, more a composite of that 'morning after' feeling when you float upon a sea of ecstasy, fading quietly when you realise the heat of the night has cooled to the 'oh no I didn't' feeling.

Breathing deeply

I've been half watching Titanic through the evening but never settling to the whole film.  I've never seen it before today, and I have only caught a few minutes.  There was the gorgeous bit when Kate Winslet takes her kit off (no surprise there) for Leonardo di Caprio to sketch her, and then much later all the bodies frozen in the water.  The reason I've never watched it is I don't fancy seeing people drowning. Being an asthmatic breathing has always been a challenge.  I'm ok now, as long as I know where my inhaler is, and the thought that people losing their breath as entertainment has always been disdainful to me.  I know only too well that feeling as your lungs constrict and fill, it's the dread that follows me.

Finding Chairs

There comes a point when you don't know whether you're in the new place, or it's just a false dawn, and any pleasure at things will be knocked out of you as the universe belittles your arrogance.  I suppose that's why I haven't written anything for a while.  I haven't been looking back, but enjoying the present and the new challenges it has been offering.  But also I have to admit that having been through the ups, and the downs that have always followed, I am very nervous to admit that I'm enjoying life, just in case the pressures that are inevitably part of adult life increase, bumping me back into a holding pattern of pain and coping.