Chest

A poem I wrote for my creative writing club, to the prompt of "getting something off my chest."

seeds sprout in my lungs;

the leaves scrape the sides,

as they grow and rise,

looking for light

that does not exist,

so deep down;

the stems harden

and fade to brown,

as cotton blooms

and expands,

breaking off and falling,

filling my lungs;

each breath struggles

through the accumulation -

slow, laborious,

painful -

but they do not stop,

nor do I