You,
blow warm breath,
into me,
e x h a l e
fragmented healing
into grey, smokestack lungs
warm energy,
wrapped
in a poison wind.
I pule, and whine, petulant:
"no," with a choke...
you squeeze scar tissue,
in your bloodless hands,
and expect it to flutter, for you?
It twists, like a wet rag,
in the stale air,
and bleeds, like the black tar
you hide, in your veins.
I can't
b re ath e,
and I'm drowning,
in the mud puddle, that is
you.
Your fingers, claw,
at the asbestos walls,
in long, ****** streaks.
I'm held fast, to the column,
in a burning building...
your white flag,
binds my limbs.
Your sweet smile
tears my ligaments,
in two.
I can't run, but
Why can't I
why can't I
breathe
I'm
C R A CKI NG
ash and bone, before you
something vaguely woman-shaped,
you hang your penitence, on.
I died, weighted,
beneath you,
and you just kept making love,
to a bombed-out, charcoal shell.
You can't hear me, crying.
It trickles away, soundless.
No pressure in the pipes;
no wind
in the reeds.
The finger valves,
only leak.
My blue eyed gaze
is henna,
on your brooding face
and forgotten again,
in mere
moments.
I vanish inside you,
like smoke.
Blue, scratchy ink--
a kanji insignia:
engraved,
upon the spot,
the location, where
your anatomical heart, should (be)at.
"Mechanical Soldier",
but I've never...
seen you fight for a nation,
that wasn't you.
Written literally because I'm having trouble breathing and it's taken me back into a moment in the past, spontaneous recollection. It's okay if it doesn't make sense to you, it makes sense to me.