weight of air

November it's your turn to share the air, and I can feel it all around me. The burn that sits on my skin, and the slow tingle that drips on down my lungs. my hands can hardly catch the grip needed to hang along, and my eyes are stuck on a palms last imprint, frosted on my looking glass. man we've left no choice on to keep or not to keep, this is cancer. and Cancer you have felt this November air with me twice before. you have lasted and you are lasting, and you are not fading away. share the air share the air share the air share the air share the air share the air share the air.