C(O2)

When were you going to tell me
That I am becoming your carbon dioxide
When simply in my presence, at the look at my face
Your skin thins of color, until eventually you turn as blue as mold on bread
As blue as waters an infant drowns in 
And you stumble backwards choking on my existence 
Suffocating on her lack of existence 
When were you ever going to tell me 
That I am your carbon dioxide
The putrid taste you wring from your tongue 
With a swish of water, with a gulp of her
The forgotten halos of cold breaths wispy and wet 
Drying and floating away into the icy sky 
When were you ever going to choose a damn time to tell me 
That I will always be your carbon dioxide 
The disposable you will always use like razor blades 
That are there for the moment to saw the growing filth off 
And then soon in the trashcan as shunned as your dirt
But baby I can cut too
So when were you going to tell me you fool 
Not that I was your carbon dioxide
Because I already knew
But just tell me when 
You were going to tell me that she was your oxygen? 

-anna sluder

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