I would always look at a polaroid that would breathe fresh memories and would suffocate me through black and white pictures in the smell of a magazine, brewed nostalgic memories that will be always kept in my mind like a museum, hanging in my blank walls like old chandeliers hanging on my umbrella roof.
I would buy a plant that produces air, not any plants, a specific one, that would suffocate me and would feel like having a handful of sand in my mouth, having my lungs gnarled like the old forest trees and would be forced to choke on water, that's the feeling of your suffocation.
I would only sleep on a pillow that would suffocate me, the one that feels like nightmares creeping into my chest, having to die slowly and get a scent of your perfume in the pillowcases which my lungs needed to feel, and my nose that needed to smell.
I'm not your dog on a leash,
I'm not a floor you can step on,
I'm not a medicine that you can taste,
I'm not a bottle that needs to be crushed and twisted like my existence.
Maybe I am a flute that needs to be played thru your breath.
Maybe I am a lightbulb that can't be fixed.
Maybe I am a balloon that can't float.
Silly you, I am not the curtains you can hang and tie to a knot.
©sarah_
J