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