PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

being in love with you is like dying.

like,

crying every night,

and only having the hands

of the skelotons in your closet

there to wipe away your tears.

their name

lodges in your throat

and chokes you,

and you feel the familiar memory

of their fingertips

on your skin,

like acid.

and you wonder.

wonder how

this ephemeral love

turned deadly.

because,

you cant breathe.

so why is it,

their lips

look like a spare inhaler.

their arms,

a breath of fresh air,

and their eyes like

nebulizers.

you cant breathe,

and they dont care.