Asphyxia

Lately, it's been hard to breathe.

Beats of sweat collect beneath my fingertips, pressed firmly against the radial artery. I can feel the even steadiness of my heart's beat, I wish my mind was just as stable.

I'm sprawled across my sheer, charcoal comforter and my eyes begin to roll. The lungs that rise and fall within my chest somehow forget to breathe. My head starts twirling like an uneasy ballerina. It's like a cinderblock came tumbling from the sky and fell onto my ribcage, for a heaviness is lingering throughout my upper torso.

My lungs begin to burn, crying out for delicious air. My brain ignores the pleads, and leaves me staring at the ceiling. I watch the fan cut up the oxygen that hovers in the sky; it fades from cream to midnight black, as glimmering spots of white appear before my eyes. It all goes dark, my body's nerves flutter like a swarm of butterflies batting at my limbs. Stillness overcomes me, and I've fallen into sleep.

I'm awakened by the sound of boxes slamming into concrete, as a pair of muscular arms stack my pink totes against the wall. I look into your dirty, brown eyes and draw a smile upon my face. Sucking in a plethora of air, I turn around, folding a crate between my fingers.