TWELVE

One..
Your chest rises.
Two..
Your chest falls.
Three..
I heave out a breath.

Tornadoes. Sandstorm.

Those are nothing.
I can handle those.

One... Two... Three...

Not even the fear of natural disaster could beat this pain in my chest when I see you. This clenching of my heart. This feeling of everything inside of me being twisted and squeezed.

One... Two... Three...

I couldn't bare to look at you: how your chest rises and falls rapidly at times, how your brows knitted in agony just for you to take in air, how you have to rely on that stupid tank just to do the very thing human takes for granted.

Tornadoes. Sandstorm.

I can handle those.
But not this.
Not the torrent of pain inside of my chest when I see you.

I thought I'm the controller of the very thing you need. I realized I'm no god nonetheless.

One... Two... Three...

Remember those times I told you you take my breath away?
Remember when I told you I was left breathless by your touches?

One lift of the corners of your lips was enough to take my breath away.
Two playful wiggles of your eyebrow when you teased me were enough to make my heart skip a beat.
Three light touches of your lips brushing against my skin added with four minutes of hug drove me insane and left me gasping for air.

Right now I wish my breath is taken away for real and be given to you instead.

Right now I wish to breathe less if that could help you breathe more.

One..
Your chest rises.
Two..
Your chest falls.
Three..
I heave out a breath.

But worry not, love. I will always be with you.

One... Two... Three...

Even when the counting stops,

One... Two... Three...

I will be by your side. And when your eyelids open. You will see me there with you. Because if your counting stop,

One... Two... Three...

Mine will also stop.

For you are my air. My breath.