you’re the oxygen in my lungs
when they’re screaming for air
yet you’re my physical pain
and my emotional despair
you’re the food to my famine
when my stomach is aching
but you’re the salt to my wound
when my heart is breaking
you’re the pen to my paper
when my voice runs dry
yet you’re the spark of the lighter
when the page burns high
yet when my life is seized,
with hopes before you,
my burden will end
and you can start anew
An old pre-written XAXA poem, I'll give this one 5 years.
