It has been four years since I wrote a poem
Four years asphyxiated and smothered
It was also four years that I was with him
Four years where I put him above everything else
And four years where I held my breath, so he could have all the air in the room
Because I thought giving everything you had to the person you were with is what love was
It was four years where I let him push me to the side all the same
And being treated with passivity and indifference will change a person
Will make you feel like you’re just not quite interesting enough
Will make you believe your needs are just not as important
Will make you turn purple waiting for them to put you first
Despite giving him all the oxygen, he still left me
And now I’m alone again
And I am scared to breathe
Because doing what I need is now so unfamiliar to me,
That I’m scared that inhaling will leave me choking and overwhelmed by the amount of four years’ worth of missing self-worth filling my lungs
But my body is convulsing,
And I need to remember that I do matter,
That I am interesting
That my needs are important
And that love is not suffocating yourself, so others can breathe.