Oxygen.
I’m slowly running out of it.
My heart beats so fast that my body can’t actually keep up,
so my lungs panic.
My mind shuts down-
and here I am. Asleep.
Thinking about what the world would be like without oxygen.
I feel like I’m dead, but I’m not.
I’m still.
I am tired.
I am slowly wilting away because I let you take my breath.
If a single word can bring me to this state, then come closer.
A touch will **** me, but it is worth the risk.
Satisfaction is all that I crave, so if I die today or tomorrow because of a mislead, then it shall have to stay that way.
I will die a perfect death.
The lack of air and the lack of anything in my lungs will have to just let me wilt away.
Oxygen.
I think I need it as much as I need you, but why balance two things that cannot compare to each other? Why put together something that will equally repel? You will fight because I need you both, but why? Why does someone compare to something that has been given to me since birth?Why does someone who has their own supply fail to share it with someone who needs it?
Oxygen.
A wildcard. Puts me together like the petals being ripped from a flower in reverse. But you are the actual motion, yanking every little bit of anything that I could ever have left, but why?
Ask yourself.
Your oxygen is different than mine because it can only exist if you’re taking it from helpless girls that have had so much air that they might as well be falling from the sky, but now they are just done. They are done. Because you took their oxygen.
Corpses. In a coffin. Stuck without any oxygen. Dead. because you took it. You took my air. I’m a useless body of decayed skin because you took it all from me. You took my oxygen.