Some days I remember how I tattooed you across my lungs.
It’s then that I know why I can rarely breathe.
It’s then that I know the oxygen never hits my bloodstream.
Stops just short,
catching on your fingertips.
Burning and branding instead of filling and spilling.
It’s then that I remember how you’ll be choking me from inside, eternally.
Never letting me catch my breath.
Always just shy of full.
And now I breathe shallow,
just like you.