a n d
nobody wants your
l u n g s
anymore, there's
water
s e e p i n g
through the void you'd
kept safe for the air you
could never heave
o u t
your chokes
are silent and
there are bricks
on your
h o l l o w
chest, you're
floating, you're
drowning, you're
f l o u n d e r i n g
a delicate hand raised
up, your throat
clogged with the poetry
you never told them about
the verses you wrote
for the hims and hers
and you find yourself
praying,
the godless anarchist
pleading to be saved
praying for one last
chance
but nobody
want your lungs
anymore.
they're broken
and they're bleeding.
and sugar,
don't you know?
we like our friends intact.
