The corna of my mouth.
You da blu sky in my daydreams.
You da machine gun o love in my damn nightmares,
Firin off your rays of light in my body so fast.
Be in my bed sometimes, taunting me.
An if I make u part of me,
Does that mean I know less of myself?
Sometimes i feel like i’m an organ–i am
Somebody’s throbbing lung,
Or somebody’s limb
In this life
To figure out who i could be
Because i spend
Most of my time
To breathe for somebody else.
Alot of the time,
This work feels good
But when the person
You’re breathing for
Wants to begin breathing on their own
But all you’ve been doing all this time
Is making a bed out of your body for them,
It is painful.
I don’t know how to breathe on my own. I don’t know how not to become the people I fall in love with.
I told u
Not to feel guilty,
But the truth is,
I want u to feel sooo guilty
To write me a poem.
Each day we’ve been apart
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