It’s a pain that feels
Sour like a fresh lemon
Not like the juice that comes
In a gauche plastic container
With the little green cap.
It tastes like it shouldn’t.
Not what you’re used to and disappointing.
And when you breathe deeply
It dies out at the top of your throat.
You need to take in more air, but no more will fit.
If you listen carefully, you can hear
A sad little wheeze
That makes you think you’re dying.
Sometimes I think I’m dying.
When you stretch and feel for damage
It hurts more
And you find nothing.
You put your shirt back on
And pretend you were just using the bathroom.