Poetry

Oxygen

I looked upon his glass blue eyes, looking for a reason to stay,
He held my waist and touched my cheek, telling me he’d only pray.
He’d pray for my loyalty and prayed for my sanity,
And wished upon a star I would never realize how bad he was for me.
I breathed him in like smoke in a cigarette,
And coughed every time I exhaled, because the toxins burned.

My lungs expand and then deflate from his every breath,
My heart beat beats in sync with his, as if attached, one blood stream.
A creation of perfect puzzle pieces, matching together like interlocking hands,
A perfect pair of two, who pull and push and rip and scratch,
just to breathe the right type of oxygen.

I tried to escape the tight embrace, but I was only brought in closer.
I tried to pull and push, and rip and scratch, but he only held me tighter.
He knew if he were to let me go my skin would come undone,
He held me stable, held me together, and I held us together as one.

He told be he loved me, and it felt as good as second hand smoke,
I told him I loved him more,
breathing the favor back to him.

Our hands fit together like perfect puzzle pieces together,
With glue on all the edges, so it would stick forever.

“Don’t leave, baby,” he said.  “I won’t, I promise always.”

Write A Comment