I used to breathe just like you, filling my lungs deeply with the smell of early morning dew and grass as I left the house for work on my favorite mountain bike. I was young, and my first job at a quick lube shop was a short two miles away. I realized quickly I didn’t need coffee or any other stimulant to help sharpen my mind for the simple but fast paced work; the fresh wind on my face and the blood rushing through my legs during the quick commute was more than enough. I enjoyed the work, and found comfort in the unique scent of my employment, breathing in again as I locked my bicycle to utility pipes behind the building. New, used and burnt oil, gasoline, grease, hot rubber and metal filled my lungs as my coworkers started their morning taunts about how I work at an oil change and car maintenance place and didn’t have a license yet. What can I say? The managers liked my attitude.

I don’t breathe as deep as I used to. When the cell doors open at dawn for breakfast, I breathe shallow as I make my way to and from the meal line, doing my best to avoid inmates with the worst hygiene, praying that the milk in my carton isn’t spoiled, hoping that weird smell coming out of my cell’s plumbing hasn’t been magnified by the rainfall during the night before.

Only when something reminds me of my olfactory senses do I make the mistake of bringing it back to my attention. A memory of a family member’s favorite car air freshener, a commercial featuring succulent images of BBQ ribs, a conversation about a salt water beach. Immediately a if to grasp hopelessly at those scents so far away in time in space, I inhale.

I used to breathe like you, but now I know the smells of every smoked chemical and intoxicant. I can detect the distance and type of administered pepper spray. I know the potency of a body owned by someone who is simply waiting to die, the strength permeating out of an open wound, and the all-consuming and commanding presence of a man in a cage who has completely abandoned his humanity. I make a choice every morning to deny my lungs the tragedy of this place. I pray one day soon, I can enjoy breathing in my life again.

Featured image Image by truthseeker08 on Pixabay.