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glassea
Poems
Apr 2015
confessions of an asthmatic
i can't breathe.
my lungs are filled with
your words,
your hands,
your skin.
i'm drowning.
i'm suffocating.
but with every breath
i don't take,
i feel.
(you bring me alive.
it's funny 'cause
you're killing me.)
i'm used to this. it doesn't get easier.
Written by
glassea
24/USA
(24/USA)
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