Laryngitis
Laryngitis  asthma stories
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bluepeonies
bluepeonies Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
It’s always much later than you think; my throat is swollen and closing up, the air whistling through a thinning gutter. This is song of my childhood: the whistling of choked air, and the furious, fluttering heartbeat of a heart that won’t give up.

Laryngitis

It’s always much later than you think; my throat is swollen and closing up, the air whistling through a thinning gutter.

This is song of my childhood; the whistling of choked air, and the furious, fluttering heartbeat of a heart that won’t give up.

I wasn’t always so good at calming myself – more than a few nights ended under the neon glare of hospital lights, my mom tight with fear and hands clenched white on mine.

I grew up but I confess: sometimes I hold my breath and find it again, my old song – fluttering and still beating, yelling at me “you have to go on”

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