You suck all the air out of me 

With that voice you call “discipline”

It’s robbery. 

You take the love I’ve been trying to hoard for myself. 

Dragging it out with your lips. 

The very essence of me disappears

When you extract it

From the tip of my tongue. 

It’s always a war with you. 

I tug back my dignity and hard work, but you pull

Me towards you

I hold my breath,

Not letting you take anymore of me.

I found the strength to pull away,

But before I do,

You exhale into me.

Blowing a wind back into me.

And all the colors of our past howl into my stomach. 

Pale white: The robes of countless doctors begging me to leave you

Light pink: The color of her swimsuit you told me I would ruin 

Baby blue-spotted with black: my carpet dotted with mascara stains every time you scream at me

I don't fight it. 

I allow the concoction to roll around in me before 

I let out a sigh in your mouth. 

My dear, I, too, can give you a storm

Bright red: The velvety sauce that I ate while you screamed at me

Muted yellow: faint lights in the distance when I spent time with people other than you

Soft grey: The first dress I wore without consulting your opinion

Gold: certificates, medals, and awards I got once leaving you

Dark blue: the darkness I learned to manage and embrace

This is why we don’t kiss.

Because every time we do,

You think your wind will be stronger than mine,

Don’t ever think that your breeze

Can overpower my hurricane