Thoughts swirl around in my head like a bunch of

buzzing bees in their hive, step over each other, trying to find room to
Breathe.

The burden on my chest feels like the weight of
the Heavens. I am not Atlas, what did I do to anger Zeus? With the fleeting endurance of a sprinting cheetah I cannot keep it up. Everything falls as I
Breathe.

Hair bands, my phone, and especially my baby blanket always keep my fingers occupied. Bringing comfort and reminding me of
a time when I had no responsibility and could afford to be carefree.
Breathe.

Tests, prom, graduation, and college once seemed eons away, but are now right around the corner. The months are slipping away like a microwaved stick of
butter. Am I ready? Can I make it in the real world? What will I do with the rest of my life? Questions like these pop up out of
nowhere as I constantly have to remind myself to face them as they come and
Breathe.

sometimestheweightoftheworldfeelscrushingandbreathlessandIstruggletofindanyairbutIthinkbackonitallandI
Breathe.