I was sick and I couldn't breathe.
Every inhale was followed by a raspy exhale. Drying my lungs, a tightening in my chest. Wheezing and coughing, searching for the air that was being blocked by my snot filled nose and mucous filled lungs.
I was sickly in love.
I couldn't breathe.
Every inhale was followed by your fingertips wrapping themselves around my throat, soft lips thrown roughly against my neck. Forcing me to believe this was okay.
My lungs felt dry as your words crawled inside of me, tightening like chains around my organs, squeezing my heart, my lungs. You were internally crushing me. I couldn't breathe.
I wheezed and coughed, searching for the air that was being blocked by your empty promises and meaningless kisses.
You're gone, the ghost of you trying to burrow itself in my throat.
I still can't breathe.
