"I love you," he tells me as I'm struggling to breathe.
"I love you," he repeats as I try to fight my demons.
"I love you," he screams when I ask if I can take a breather, just to calm my mind.
"I love you," he cries when I tell him that I don't think this will work.
"I love you," I respond, not daring to hurt him, knowing that he's broken and that he's also trying to fight his own demons.
"I love you," I barely make out, as I hold him to me, cradling his frail body as the tears flow down my scared face.
"I love you," I mouth, unable to breathe as my demons suck all the oxygen from my lungs and laugh at my attempts to breathe.
~F.c.
YOU ARE READING
This is Poetic Vomit
PoetryI only mean to write what I feel. That's what the doctors say I should do.