Writing Roses

Suffication

I used to be able to breathe.
But every second is leaving me with no room.
Every step I take gifts me with stress in my mind.
Every scene that is shown blows anxiety in my lungs.
No longer I sense carbon dioxide.
No longer I feel oxygen.
I inhale my worries.
Never exhaling.
Only the rarity of euphoria escapes.
My only time for a sigh.
Ends within microseconds.
I'm not trying to hold my breath.
Concerns always stuff this little shell.
Giving me a sad excuse for a person.
Filled with regret of the past, present, future.
Will I ever be able to breath?
It seems so far from now.
Life inside would finish first.
Perhaps it's supposed to be this way.
To balance life they have me carry burdens.
No room for air.
For life.
For happiness.
Only my fears,
Anxiety,
Stress and worries,
To prevail.
Leaving this human body.
To suffocate for all eternity.