My Beloved Consumer

Asphyxiation becomes you, like unto a vacuum
Always sucking, never consuming enough
Always consuming the air of we in your circle

There are no pills, no cure
Because you are not sick
There is nothing in your toolbox
Rusting there for you to fix
What you think is not broken

I moaned for you when consequence had no remedy
I tried to believe your didactic charms. Honestly  
I still don’t know if this is all my fault
Even though they tell me it is not

They say to put on your own oxygen mask
Before assisting others
But I could not find one that fit you.
Before we crashed.