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Everyday you ask why I love you
You say
"Why do you you love me when I put you through Hell.
When I push you into your shell,
And I never give you a straight answer.
You say " Why do you love me when I can't love you back,
And when I have all these mood swings."
Well this is what I say.
I love you because you are like my Asthma.
I didn't chose to have you here with me all the time, but you are.
You are here to make my life harder,
But you also make me stronger.
When the voggy winds blow
And it gets hard to breathe
It is you falling.
Yet I pick that Inhaler of mine up
And I take two deep breaths,
and I lift you back up.
As my breaths become clearer.
I know that I will never be able to breathe as well as others.
Just as I know I will never fall out of love for you.
You are the chronic lung disease that forces me to try harder.
The person that makes me try my hardest when I'm singing up on that stage.
You motivate me.
It is you that is always on my mind
When I have to try hard to take breathes instead of just breathing.
When I am running and my lungs start to choke me, it is the pain I feel every time I see you with him instead of me.
Because Love
You are my lung disease.
You are the funny noise my breath makes when I dance,
Because the Oxygen doesn't want to go in.
And when you touch me I feel the buzzing sensation that I get when taking my albuterol.
The warmth of my Nebulizer as it vaporizes the medicine for me to breathe.
Every kiss you plant on my head, fills me with the dizziness that I get from my medication
When I try to stand up, I end up falling just as hard as I have for you.
You are the relief I feel when I take my
Meds on a bad day, you make me feel normal again.
That's why I love you.
That is why I don't care if you're with him instead of me.
Because you will always be with me.
Just like my lung disease.
I wanted to try comparing love to something that I know well. I do have Asthma and I thought this would be something I could try to write.
Micah Feb 2015
Hey guys,
I think this is more of a notice than a poem,
But I got let out of the hospital last night after three hours of being on a respiratory machine because I was seriously struggling to breathe without any aid.
All this because I had a severe throat infection that spreaded into my chest and effected my lungs.
All thus just to tell you guys that this could either cause one of two different things.
I could either:
A) be soon taken back into intensive care where the WiFi is horrendous and not be able to make it back on here for the next...while (I don't for sure how long it's going to take for recovery, to be perfectly honest x)

OR

B) I'm going to recover enough to stay at home with several antibiotics to keep the pain bearable and have a nebulizer by my side 24/7 whilst still having a good WiFi signal so I can keep in touch with you guys.

I'm really hoping that optionB will be the one that takes shape because you guys are part of my internet famalam and not being able to hear your lovely work day-to-day will tear me apart the most **

Have a blessed Sunday everyone, love you lots **
felicia Nov 2015
holding onto every pieces of the broken heart.

im sorry.
i cant be like them.
i couldnt even stare at your face.

im sorry.
i cant be like them.
i couldnt even cry aloud for you in front of everyone.
i even hid my tears.

im sorry.
i cant be like them.
i couldnt even be there, kissing the soil where you belong now.

but here i am,
holding onto every pieces of my broken heart.

i miss you.
i miss your smile.
i miss your voice.
i miss staring at your back,
or even just sitting there beside you.

i miss talking about everything with you.
i miss the laughter we shared.

i miss the coffee stain on your morning cup.
and the smell of the hot chocolate you really like.

i miss all the time you were nagging on me about everything im unaware about.

i miss calling your name.

i miss the buzzing sound of your nebulizer.
and the smell of your inhaler.

simply, i miss you.

and here i am, holding onto every pieces of the broken heart.
it hurts i dont wanna tell anyone.
Unlife Apr 2011
When I was in the hospital again
Visiting Grandma, this time
I could hear you breathing.

I heard your nebulizer humming and keeping me up
I heard your gravely voice thanking me and
I heard the music you let me hear.

The acoustics here are impressive
And the echo is really bad.
Kay P Feb 2014
I do not love your scars

Given the chance I would trace the marks with fingers
trembling
hold your bruises with soft caresses
brush my lips across them with childish hope
kiss it better

I do not love your scars

They tell tales of suffering
of self-hate and loathing
and if my fingers could fit through my ribs
I would drag out my heart and ask you to taste it
for my love flows more abundant than blood
and the last of my life dripping from between your fingers
reminds me of a fairy tale ending

I do not love your scars

Rash imperfection on otherwise pale skin
bright red marks and bruises purple as eggplant
in defiance of the life you live
harsh self-taught words that cut deeper
than you broken glass ever could.

I do not love your scars

Words muttered and kept
under breath and filling lungs and spilling from parted lips
let me be your nebulizer
to pump numb-tasting words into your body
until you can taste nothing but my lips on yours
feel nothing but my breath on your collarbone
my teeth on your throat

I do not love your scars

They prove your pain
that despite my love and thoughts of our future
still you hate the very being
that gets me out of bed in the morning.
I am not a love poet
but when I write of you
it is the only word
that comes to mind

I do not love your scars

I can not fathom the size of our galaxy
but its vastness is the only thing able to contain
my affections
for what else changes and expands
what else contains suns and solar systems
and great spaces of nothing at all?

What else steals breath as Love does?

I do not love your scars

But I love your resolute acceptance
the way you know where each one is
a flaw upon perfection
like small blips on a map
stars in the universe

I do not love your scars

You see them as wreckage,
not strongholds
Blackholes
instead of suns
Proof of weakness
instead of iron ***** resilience

I do not love your scars
I do not love their stories
I love the person strong enough
to bear them
February 19th, 2014
Sarah Clark Oct 2018
She was always used to being a little bit not able to breathe well
She was never quite suffocating
But an albuterol inhaler and a really awkward nebulizer helped her through some rough nights

And it’s an odd metaphor for loneliness
Like suffocating just a little, but breathing well enough to get by
Was her way of life

She always envied those girls who knew how to make them smile
Without suffocating
Without breaking out into hives

She can’t help but
Wish that she were one of those girls

But she takes a slow breathe
Remembers that her life is hers to define
And that loneliness sometimes looks like suffocating
But sometimes
It looks like endurance
In a life she wasn’t meant for

And suddenly she is grateful for missed breaths
And for a man
She perhaps hasn’t met yet
Because in the meantime
She has had to learn to be her own life line

— The End —