Aspirations

Aspiration. Such a hopeful word; A harbinger of bright futures: Determination at its best-- A breath of fresh air Until you're choking on it. Each bite problematic. Will it go down, or will you slowly suffocate one piece of food at a time? Textures become the enemy. Will this one go down? Will it stick? Can you cough it out? Or is it packing, piece by piece bite by bite-- Slowly, filling your lungs in a wordless body that can't fight back? Suffocation is an ugly death, not something to aspire too. So why give those hacking coughs such a glowing name? Breathe it all in, but the air it's not sweet. Such wonderful potential you have, respiration of breakfast, lunch and dinner, even saliva; layer by layer becomes a ticking bomb. Who will be feeding you when it becomes too much; when respiration is no longer your aspiration, And Aspiration is cause of death?