Lungs

Choking.

The walls, they close around me like a compressing gas.

The last breath of oxygen enters my bloodstream.

I hold onto it like a long last,

but it escapes me like a dream.

Suffocating.

My limbs turn blue,

from the absence of you.

My oxygen-

my reason.

The growing void contrasted in snow,

is dark, poignant; nothing left to show

of you.

The distance doesn't matter to me,

but when you leave for a weekend of keys and needles,

your uncontrollable urges for me are targeted to her.

My presence is meaningless.

You don't need my love.

You're already in love with the idea of someone like me.

Cold, broken.

Heartless.

Inside those bones and flowing through your poisoned veins,

you know I am none of those things-

a facade for when you leave.

When you leave, like the last breath of oxygen

from the four walls that close around us.