Suffocated- metaphorically and physically-
the air is thick and heavy,
weighed down by the sorrow and struggle that surrounds us.
It envelops many, crushing them.
I'm left dragging in empty breaths,
these breaths come rapidly as I desperately fight to get oxygen into my system.
This is the reason my most feared path of destruction is suffocation.
For I know very well:
the incapitating panic,
the despair at what this world is,
the violent beating of the heart reverberating through one's frame,
and most terrifying- the hyperventilating that leads to blackness.
My vision blurs and head spins.
I don't know if I'm inhaling anymore; my body has given into the struggle.
I'm lost in it until the waves of panic deplete my reserves, finally letting me rest.
But I awake more exhausted than before.
Heart as empty as my lungs.
YOU ARE READING
Pondering
PoetryI write because emotion spills out of me. This is a collection of my poems and other writing. "My words are tiny pieces of me, each one specially woven just for you. And I will give, and give, and give, and give, until I am nothing and I become your...
