Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • When I was young, I would hold my breath until I turned blue. Deep stretch of my lungs, air still at the top of my throat, I was alive inside my body. Hold it, hold it, lips tingling, chest moving with a heartbeat fully realized. The shifting of muscles moving into my center, an opening, a closing. Suction. The river rush in my ears, underwater, contained. Hold it. Taste of salt in my mouth, unimagined and thick. There is blood inside me, I think, there is blood inside me and bones and meat and worms and water. Run my fingers over my skin, everything is softer, finer, more subtle and sensitive. My body my body my body. Hold it. There is nothing but me, nothing but me and the breath that I choose to keep.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.