Plastic sarcophagus aspect of the breathing machine - feed it broken foam to make me free. Paper sound lung, a landscape of coral, tape the needle down - we don't get many kids here. My blood wandered to another face - my chest a kennel. What's yours is never wholly yours.
But oh, How would my chest feel if it caved in on itself?
The sheer overwhelming feeling of falling, stomach lifting into my ribcage, lungs into my mouth
How would it feel if it all came out at once, If I enveloped myself, starting at the throat I’d get such a sick pleasure knowing that the blood in my veins rushed to my ears as I ran my hands through my scalp and have them land on my throat I don’t want to breathe, I want to be light headed and miles away from a betraying body
A pipe to run through the top of my hip bone, run a fishing wire through it to catch the cares I once gave I want a pile of bricks to smother the bones below my breast
Cut my spine clean in half and I’ll marvel at the sky above me and I’d never move from that spot
Leave me to stare and stare at a sky that’s as unforgiving as the passage of time Letting my skin turn to leather and my blood to rust
I’d smile as grass grew through the holes in my ribcage I’m part of something larger than I am, a body that experiences death in its own time– What an adventure it is to rot as I live!
Like the lungs of your heart are bursting with air but you still can't breathe. Like you have a lot to say but no words to put it in. Like you want to pull your hair and scratch your skin but all you can do is stare.
Do you clench your fists hard then? And grit your teeth harder?
Do you feel your eyes popping out of their sockets?
Freezing causes wheezing, Leaving leaf spores breeding down my trachea, Allergens spin n turn sharply attacking the tools that physicalise my life with its ins and outs Oh 2 see oh 2 breathe oh 2 feel free from the obstructions that structure my schedule to be dormant Walk up the stairs hold on to the side "are you ok?" No Annie in sight, Just I, end is nigh I roll my knuckles and pinch my palms Shouldve cut my nails, shot shoots up my arms. I knock 3 times on the bannister, I Commit to it being my balancer Eyes leaking, chest croaking tight feeling like I'm choking Gasping hurts but needed to soothe the need of a response
"I'm fine, just a bit chesty"
Don't ask any more or i can get tetchy
Lecture me on meds im taking if my rooms tidy or am i forsaking, still smoking? buffing and ******* that sweet foam **** till it turns hard and golden tarred like caramel muck. Just my luck that the something that makes me feel at ease can send me bending to my knees not for pleas But to construct a wheeze Leaving me Starting every sentence with please, help me. Don't even know what im pleading to Or Who is listening to the self harmer With a clear thought that I deserve to be preserved and cured of this karma Inherited from my grandfather which I didn't know until I was told to ask my mother.
She knows about your Asthma.
She's a self destructor well known for being a self wrecker A self pecker leaving holes to be filled by watless ***** carriers Frieghts of frightening memories Sure one day shed love to tell me. But she destructured herself And left me for others to construct by themselves.
Destructing the self: is the art of not giving a **** but really not giving a **** to the point that there's no fcuks to give and giving a **** means you're affected by fcuks who dont give a **** or willing to give you an iota of optimism A helping hand A hope full of hopeful hopes Hopping fluently between the structure of the destructed self Which makes me feel woozy
As i struggle hard to say no to this tobacco especially when it's been weeks And the feeling of ease is punishing me for a past ive not seen but i realise in that moment we have much in common
Self destruction is our common denominator Our choice is the same and is made the same over and over again Its still the same results never change And still leave us with this taint That we are responsible for cleansing
So what more do i need to ask ma for? She's giving me answers by her flaws. That's her gift to me, her way of setting me free well here's hoping she breathes easy.
My lungs are lead weights in my chest, pressing against my rib cage and bearing down on my intestines. I try to inhale but the metal that is my lungs will not ply. My mouth is stuck in a wide O as i continue to wheeze. I reach out to your hand for help but you just sneer and pull away. My lead lungs pull the oxygen from my system, keeping the necessary gases from entering, and you laugh. You laugh as my whole life is taken away, endless possibilities all ended by the one impossible thing i wanted! You. You are what stole the air from my lungs, oh how exciting it was until i realized i could no longer take it back. What you hold in your hands is not yours to have it is mine. It is the air from my lung, every beat my heart skipped, every thought i have had since you showed up. But now with this burning in my chest, my heart trying desperately to keep on pumping, i look into your eyes as you throw it all away , disappearing like dust in the wind. Then you are gone. Just as quickly as you came you leave. The lead in my chest begins to drip through my bones, burning and clawing its way up my throat, and out my mouth and eyes. My heart beats weakly in my chest as if it had gotten used to your vice like grip. My eyes drip and my lungs burn and now all im left with **is lead
Inspire by an asthma attack also it sounds way the **** cooler when i read it loud ****