Adhesions.

Some days I remember how I tattooed you across my lungs.

It’s then that I know why I can rarely breathe.

It’s then that I know the oxygen never hits my bloodstream.

Stops just short,

catching on your fingertips.

Burning and branding instead of filling and spilling.

It’s then that I remember how you’ll be choking me from inside, eternally.

Never letting me catch my breath.

Always just shy of full.

And now I breathe shallow,

just like you.