the black lung

my lungs are screaming in protest against this torturous abuse.

my mind is screaming for rest as i struggle to get loose.

coughing, hacking, wheezing

the only thing worse than death right now is sneezing.

the bones of my ribcage are bruised black and blue.

this death is to dying what plague is to the flu.

every breath is a dagger to the chest.

and right now maybe breathlessness is really for the best.

this pain, it lets me know that i'm alive.

this pain, it lets me know that nothing will be fine.