Asthma.

You don't know

how it feels when the moisture

evaporates inside me,

When my chest is crushed

and you say I'm faking it

as I hold my hand over my heart,

my ribs can't go wide enough.

I want to breathe.

I thank everyday,

because those times

when the attacks return

and I want to cry

because my sadness

collapses inside me,

I am glad I can breathe.