need air or die

sometimes
when I don't get enough air
into my
lungs
the world starts to go dark,
I feel faint,
and woozy,
I find a chair to sit down
in, get a glass
of water,
locate my rescue inhaler
and take a couple
of hard puffs.
sweat beads on my forehead,
and I think
about being found stretched
out on the floor,
ready to start pushing up
daisies.
no will, no combination
to the safe, no way for anyone
to get onto my
computer and find out
what I've been up to.
loose money lying around,
the milk on
the counter,
the doors unlocked and i'm
just gone.
oh well, it's not my problem
anymore.