I watched a movie once that related Love to oxygen.
It was at that instance I realized something.
I’ve spent too many years inhaling and exhaling such a fragile and pure concept.
And for once I want to suffocate at the thought of a healthy heart.
I wanted to discontinue the second notion of my lungs.
Because breathing out never sounded so strenuous.
When I saw you, I couldn’t help but gather the atmosphere around me and hold it in.
My better half held it’s hand over my mouth.
But for once I didn’t panic.
The thought of your presence crept in and eased my pain.
At times I feel like I have reoccurring moments.
Like certain circumstances have been lined up for me and you’re my humidifier, aiding my existence.
A kiss.
My lips gather upon yours.
And it is at that time, I can resupply my body with life.
It is at that time, I always understand why he referenced oxygen when speaking about Love.
So when I grow older, I don’t want a breathing tube shoved down my throat.
I just want you there, holding my hand.