i have fought this battle
long and hard

my lungs
have sucked in
decay
despair
anguish
and ecstasy

and i have choked on them all

they have filled me up
like a man fills a woman
but without any of the pleasure
or release
and they have writhed 
over my body
and discolored
the velvety, supple skin
that used to be mine

i have become the depths in which i lie
i am underground,
coughing, hacking, wheezing
and running out of air

there is no light,
no torches, no sun
no gentle kiss of wind
or soft blades of grass
to comfort my aching feet

there is only stone
and dirt
and worms
and death
and me. only me.

here in this place,
i have made a home–
a hell–
from which
i will never escape