My heart is pounding outside of my chest
oxygen is slowly
kept from reaching my lungs, like lead weights sitting on
my ribcage,
there's nothing more beautiful than the
way my body refuses to give up on me as I cough frustration
I can taste the air
that I cannot breathe
YOU ARE READING
Four Seasons Growing Inside Me
PoetryThis is just a jumble of writing, poetry, self help, rolled into a little thing I'd like to call Four Seasons Growing Inside Me
