Stagnant

It’s stagnant air
and I can’t breathe.
                                    Never circulates
                                           when I’m sick.
It just sits there
like heavy smoke
waiting for breath
                                                    to move it-
                         temporarily
                                      and then curl into place
undisturbed
                                     like nothing had happened.
Trying to be slim and healthy
                  disgusts me.
              It’s just too strong a combo,
              and I taste it in my throat
                      hours after my supposed cure.
 
  
 
And I can still pinch an inch…
 
…or two…
etcetera…
It’s stagnant life
I can’t breathe
and I’m stuck in my chair.
I personify laziness.
Can’t move.
Not
         even
                    a
                              step.
I’m pinned down
under a cloud of weight-
endless stagnant wait.
Cars aren’t even driving by.
It’s the most beautiful day in months.
What am I doing tonight?
With my life?
I am stuffed and stagnant
and the air’s getting thicker
             and harder to breathe.