I'm afraid of trips to the hospital
you know that.
I'm allergic to dogs, cats, and dust
of course you know that.
Something I can't bear,
but you live for.
It starts with a wheeze,
a trembling cough with no matter
andthenIpanic.
   Fiddling through old pockets and and a glove box
             ican'tbreathe.
                       I know you're somewhere close
                                 wherethehellareyou?
                                           Hiding in a pocket from yesterday
                                                   thankyoujesus.
Gripped firmly to my mouth
I give your silver top a hard push
AND THEN AT LAST
vapor fills my airways to ease the inhales
from my last cigarette.
A subtle sweet taste, like spray candy
mixed with cough syrup.
I hold for ten alligators so you can work in peace
as you navigate through swamps
of shisha and THC.
A thick fog I cannot see.
Ripping the mucus from my walls
making tar stuck to tissue seem like a lubricant
for a fire engine.
At last clean air.
A moment enjoyed for a minute.
One last puff,
and I'm not dead yet.