I drink in the letters of your name one by one-
All “fiv” of them,
Like inhaling shards of glass
That choke me from ever saying those letters aloud.
I think the reason I’m left breathless is
That I’m so overcome with sorrow
That I choke on grief
Like the kids that smoke pot for the first time
To get away from the reality of it all.
The way you leave me gasping is like
Drowning in a swimming pool two feet deep,
Irony as thick
As the smoke from the firetrucks set on fire,
Like our friendship going up in flames.