What slowly eases
habits of being around—
they suffocate us
and intoxicate us
all at once,
like smoke that lingers
long after the fire is gone,
like voices we carry
though their speakers are silent.
We mistake them for comfort,
but they press close,
wrapping us in patterns
we forgot we chose.
And when they loosen—
a sudden hush,
a window opening
onto air we never knew
was ours to breathe.
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