You breathe me oxygen, carrying my asthma-filled lungs in your delicate hands, pushing me strength to breathe life into my efforts.

You heal my wounds, cascading protection over my soul, allowing my focus to be on my future.

You make my heart beat, matching my pulse to the one I feel laying on your chest, easing my worries and filling my love.

Without you, I can still breathe, heal, and love; without you, I can carry on and force mother nature to cast storms that match my tears.

But I won't be the same. I won't breathe life into another, I'll suck the life out of others to fuel my own. I won't focus my future, I'll dwell on the past and drag myself backwards. I won't love unconditionally, I'll love as a survival tactic.

Without you, I will be undead.