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by tayla Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Other · #1970289
Title explains it all.
I think of you in IV drips,
and pills too fucking big to swallow.
I think of you in rapid breaths
too shallow to keep the panic from
completely consuming me.
And it's in those moments,
I swear I feel you in my lungs.
You're that crackle when I inhale,
and the wheeze when I breathe out.
You're the rattle in my chest, cough
until I crack a rib, feverish and
naked on the cold tile, choking
on my foamy bile,
- the pneumonia of my mind.
And I'd rather die than live with you.
But I do think of you sometimes.
© Copyright 2014 tayla (tayla3000 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1970289-Sick-of-You