I miss you like a burning ache in the back of my mind
And a constant crushing weight on my chest
And every time I try to take a breath, it aches and I struggle to inhale
Knowing that I will never again breathe into your mouth
Even though "that's really ******* hot please do that again."
And I've used my inhaler 68 times since you started to disappear
I know because there is a small black dial on the side that counts how many puffs I have left
The number keeps creeping closer and closer to zero.
And I am struck with the need to see it hit zero and the fear of what will happen when it does.
Already I am turning greyer and greyer everyday
My eyes and hair dripping off the brown they've worn all my life
And I remember how you turned grey and then white and then suddenly you were gone
And I wonder if the same will happen to me
In reality, my inhaler is all I can grip to
Artificial air.
You stole the real air right out of my lungs when you left me on the cold ground that night.
And I remember that your hands disappeared first, shedding the light shade of white your body had recently adopted.
And I remember crying because my hands loved the way they felt wrapped in yours.
And days go by that feel like hours, the clock melting off the wall.
But with you 5pm was suddenly midnight in a matter of a few needy kisses and deep conversations.
And maybe that's why it hurts so bad.
"Because it was real"
Which is from the movie we saw
The night I first noticed your colors were dimming.