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i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t....breathe oxygen stale in caved-in lungs breath beating wings, frantic inside birdcage set my canary free let me breathe give me oxygen i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i can’t.... the funny thing, says the narrator with wise, weary knowing, is that she actually can breathe just fine. there’s no cage—only the monsters snarling in her paranoid, runaway thoughts in the corners of her warped and worried mind (you’ve always been a worrier) let my canary free of the darkness and the fear (i can’t breathe—you can. i can’t—you’re fine. are you sure? how can you ever be sure?)