Hemlocked Heart

If purpose flew to my sealed door,
If I were reborn braver than before,
If I cultivated love and care more,
If the weight didn’t suffocate me,
Who would I be?

If daydreams didn’t dull my mind,
And will hadn’t deserted me in kind
Favoring gailent gusts, beside and behind
I suppose wings were never meant to find me.
Not really. Breath was never meant to fill me.

So I’ll choke on indecision. Today again.
Would I know how or just hollowly pretend,
To feel it, whip through a howling refrain?
If I inhaled humanity in the morning air
Into my lungs, so used to collecting clouds of despair?