Stained Hearts

Asthma

So many people on this Earth,
Take advantage of their breath,
From the first few beginning at birth,
Till the last one at life's death.

We all assume air is infinite,
That our thinking, like the air, is clear.
Don't they know that there's a limit,
To our already poisoned atmosphere?
People say the world is big,
But I believe it's getting smaller,
And if you look at how much more we dig,
Our egos are only getting taller.

But the situation doesn't have to do with science,
Mostly, it has to do with humans' defiance.
They live as we don't need to breathe,
Risking their lives like we want to eternally leave.

You can see their breaths in the cold air,
Their pale faces matched with an icy stare.
Between life and death,
Nothing's really fair.

Inside I'm suffocating,
Air is thick, blood runs thin,
My lungs feel like they're separating,
The heart wants to jump out of it's own skin.
There's a lack of oxygen,
I find myself gasping for air again,
I'm slowly losing adrenaline,
I tend to black out every now and then.

My memory is blinking on and off,
Is it just me, or does the sky spill red?
Am I choking or is it a cough,
My whole body seems to act brain-dead.

I'm not dying, just exasperating,
Although my blood pressure seems to be accelerating,
And my pain keeps on elevating.
I'm giving up on hope for an end,
My ribcage feels like it'll break and bend.

All the sudden, there comes sweet relief,
My throat aflame is relieved from its grief,
The inhaler helps my suffering stay brief.

I am asthmatic,
All I can hear is silent static,
Everyone's response is automatic,
My experience is just as traumatic.

Inhale,
Exhale,
Breathe in a strong gale.
My mouth is stale,
My voice, quite frail,
But I'll live to tell the tale.