You're like a punctuation mark
on my vocal cords.
Making me reconsider my shaking breath.
Wondering what my words will be as I say them.
So unsure of the skin on my fingers.
Unsure if it will singe your skin
with my self-doubt and deprecation.
and my dwindling eyesight on love.
making me reconsider who i am
and indefinitely who I've been
You are the hitch in my ribcage.
The adjacent lungs in my body
withering
finding oxygen in gas chambers.
and debating on it's validity.