I close my eyes
Forgot my mind
Or similar kind
Eaten by flies
I'm all alone
She is sick
Burning the wick
Speaks in groans
She can't breathe
She can't move
Pills are lies
Make you die
I need a smile
No one gets it
Covered in yarrow
Eyes filled in grit
Poisons my mind
You are gone
Wish it was my time
Give you air
Take my strength
Your heart sank
I will make it fair
My time yours
As I depart
Owner of heart
Don't fight any wars
I hope she gets better
She is lying in bed–
tucked under her duvet,
wrapped in freshly
washed sheets, breathing
into the phone that I know
is on her pillow–
97 miles from me.
It is her asthma, acting
up right on time, that
is keeping me awake
so I am lying, under
my own duvet, holding
onto my own phone,
about the airways
carrying every breath
into and out of her lungs–
inflamed, muscles tightening,
that maybe breathing
in the same cells, oxygen
mixing with carbon, me
mixing with you, you might
be able to breathe
a little easier
that I know
I breathe easier
L isten to me breathe,
I nhaling toxic screams,
S ounds of souls that can't escape,
T rapped for eternity,
E xhaling broken dreams,
N o escaping this disease,
T errorised by asthma,
O utcasted by my wease,
M y life is truly tainted,
E very breath is just a tease,
B ruised and battered are my lungs,
R avaged of their needs,
E radicate my air in take,
A nd expect me still to be?
T hrottle me around my neck,
H ard as heck my sour-heart,
E nslaved to death by pain from breathe from this flowers start.
"Listen to me breathe"
When I was younger, I had asthma.
I remember that suffocating feeling.
The panic, anxiety, nervousness striking my system all at once.
I never wanted to feel that again.
Fast-forward 20 years later, you came along.
The overwhelming feeling of asthma has come back.
I can't breathe.
You are asphyxiating me.
Yet, I find excuses, inhalers, to tolerate you...to keep you near.
Is it worth filling my lungs with chemicals just so that they can expand and contract?
There's an earthquake going on inside me, my chest is the fault line, My stomach is a shoe lace factory, and a tornado decided today was a great day to do tornado things.
Ya know? It really ***** when your lungs turn to vacuums and not the good kind, the kind of **** when you can hear sand knock around trying to find a way down. There's a sandstorm in your lungs and all you need is an inhaler, but breathing is easy so you don't need an inhaler.
My mom taught me how to handle this. She handles this.
She taught me cold weather can freeze this over.
But when this fails it can turn into tar and we know that tar is hotter than ****.
Are you aware that it doesn't work out when your stomach becomes a shoelace factory and a tornado happens to do tornado things?
My mom handles this. I asist.
Her guts turn to strings and don't do very gutsy things.
Her pancreas called in sick.
That was 3 years ago.
Her cheeks aren't very cheeky.
Her bones show through her skin.
Every now and then I feel the ground start to rumble and I wait for us to fall in.
She's my inhaler.
On dry land
Lungs won't accept
Sweet air returns
I've never understood the importance of lungs
Until they failed me yet again
Hooked up to a mask and tube
Hands going numb
You watched me shake and go ashen
All I could think about was my heart
As much as the needles frighten me
I was not prepared to fall apart
Even though everything kinda *****
And my body is my worst enemy
Having you there kept me breathing
Exhausted, suffocated and out of luck
I stayed upright and breathed deeply
For you are my strongest love
You did everything you could baby, if not for you I wouldn't be breathing now no matter how shallow it is
My chest constricts for biological reasons
It has nothing to do with your charm.
My breath was taken from me today
but don't let that boost your ego.
My voice was hoarse and I was wheezing
see, this has nothing to do with lust.
My heart does not fill with love for you
it's my brain that tells me not to trust.
My threatening disease has not ended me
but my lungs still ache with each breath.
There is no point in romanticising a chronic illness
because it makes you think that this all means something else.
But it's funny because you caused this
and not in the way you thought you did.
So if you could please just put out the
because while you enjoy it,
it's killing me much faster than you
*and I don't want to die so violently.
wondering why people
who have everything in life
is like wondering why
an asthma suffer can't breathe properly
when he has all the air outside to breathe
Every moment of my dear life
I constantly think about you;
Why would you take my breath away
every time I feel alive?
I see you there
everywhere behind my happiness;
Does it make you feel satisfied
depriving me of my bright laughter?
Does it make you fulfilled
haunting me until my nigh death?
Oh you made me watch stars again
why are there people quavering my
I am really sad to say