breathing remedy

 sometimes a young brotha

just gotta sit down

and breathe.


not the shallow kind,

not the rushed kind

they train you into

in this wild world—

i mean that real breath,

the one that comes

from the bottom of your chest

where all the stories sit.


’cause when you’ve seen things,

when you’ve carried weight

since you were too young

to even know it was weight…

you don’t breathe like everyone else.

you breathe like a man

who’s been running

and surviving

at the same time.


and the crazy part is—

the older I get,

the more I see the world flip.

people with authority

chest puffed, masks on,

moving like giants…

but the moment you really look?

you realize

most of them are small.

scared.

slippery.

clinging to power

because without it

they ain’t got an identity.


little sleaze bags

with big positions.


and yet somehow,

you’re the one

they want to control.

you’re the one

they want to humble.

you’re the one

they want to keep in your place.


and all you’re thinking is:


damn…

can’t a brotha just breathe?


because breathing

is the only rebellion left

that nobody can take away.

breathing

is the only way

to soften the world’s grip

on your shoulders.

breathing

is how you remind yourself

you’re still here,

still rising,

still holding your own name

in your own hands.


so here’s the remedy:


tonight,

light up some trees.

but don’t spark it yet.

don’t rush the moment.

play Breathe by Nas —

let it run through the speakers first.

let the bass slow your pulse.

let the horns

crack open the space in your chest.

let the truth in his voice

mix with the truth in yours.


and when the beat drops,

then spark it.

picture me there

with my own lighter—

same air, same frequency,

same quiet rebellion.


inhale.

feel the tension leave.

exhale.

feel the wisdom settle.

inhale again.

feel the strength return.

exhale once more.

feel yourself come back home.


because this world

will try to stack pressure on you

like you’re not built from storms.

they’ll try to distract you

from your own sanity.

they’ll try to make you forget

that peace is a birthright

not a privilege.


so breathe.


breathe like a man

who’s seen the system

and chose not to let it cage him.

breathe like a man

who’s been knocked to his knees

and still rose like he never fell.

breathe like a man

who knows his future

is louder than anything

standing in his way.


just breathe,

brotha.

that’s the whole remedy.


— Mr. Mak


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