Air

I feel my skin turn.

I haven't felt this way before 

I feel the venom in my bones.

Oh, lord I haven't felt this way before.

When did the fire reach my bones?

I believed they were burned before.

It aches a certain way.

A way am not acquainted to.

A way I refuse to recognize.

The cold water puts my skin on fire.

I drag my leprous heart.

I drag my heavy foot.

Agony dancing on my lashes.

My heart's a bag.

Filled heavy,

with grief carved rocks.

I lay

and imagine my fingertips burn 

like wicks

slowly taking me in,

an inch at a time.

An inch untouched by you 

must seize to exist,

must not breath a second more.

I lay still let the fire take me in.

What's more delightful 

then letting the fire 

smoke me away,

into the air.

The air that you breath.

I will find home,

in your veins.

I will live with you.

I will end then,

only when you do.

© jessika