Lungs/Love (Poem)

Loving people is a lot like breathing. Every inhale and exhale is a testament to how much I love you. 
But I’ve had asthma since birth, so I’m sorry if my breath starts to stutter and I can’t seem to catch it.
Sometimes I tend to get ahead of myself as if I could get a head start for something like breathing. 
I am sorry if my lungs are filled with smoke and water. 
I’m prone to filling myself with things that kill me. 
I am sorry that every breath I take sounds garbled and gross. 
I promise it’s not a reflection of who I think you are. 
I actually think you are great 
I think that you’re the feeling an 11-year-old gets when they smoke for the first time but don’t inhale. 
You just seem that cool. 
I am sorry I treat you like a mother who would rather smoke a cigarette than go to her kid’s baseball game. 
I promise I don’t mean to… 
I don’t intend to make it seem like loving you is like drowning but 
I think I started suffocating from the first… “hello.”
I don’t mean to make it seem like I wasn’t meant to love you… 
But I won’t lie, I am starting to think that lungs weren’t made for water or smoke… 
And my love wasn’t made for you… 
When they decide to autopsy my dead body
They will see the black marks and the wet residue you left with every breath
Even in my death, they will see evidence of you