Miscellaneous
(bleeding air)
Looking at you is like breathing,
loving you like I do like bleeding.
Like shamans before, I thought my blood
would purge you from me. But you're in me,
no matter how much blood flows from my heart.
No matter how weak and cold I get, I'll never be rid of you.
On my knees, my life sipping from me in front of you, head bowed,
gasping for air, how does it get worse? My eyes drag from the ground,
where they're focused, to you, and I inhale. I'm drowning in you
again, in the life you give me.
Unhealthy at my most vibrant, simply because of the shadows I keep.
Keep my wounds from the open air where they might be healed.
The risk of infection or disease is seeming less and less relevant.
So what is keeping me from tumbling headlong into the light? The depth of
the wounds doubtless I'll keep from you,
but at least you'll know they're there. That
there's you in my blood I can't get away from. For now
shadows keep me shivering. I keep looking away to test
the strength of my lungs without your oxygenic appearance,
learning that no matter what, you drench me in something
I cannot live outside of.