Fading Out (poems about life)

Lifeline

Despair, panic,
Nothing is left,
Except raw, primal terror,
Ringing in my ears, my brain.
Hot breath and hands,
Digging into my skin,
Tearing at my hair,
But I can't tell who they belong to.

I can't feel the tears flooding down my face,
Or my lungs, tattered and burning,
Or the quick, sharp, ragged breaths,
That slice my throat like knives.
It's happening too fast for me to even scream.

Familiar voices surround me,
And all of a sudden,
The hands on my skin turn soft,
Soothing.
Holding me safe, not still,
Not trapped.

In the midst of the terror,
There are hands grasping my own.
My lifeline.

I cling onto them for dear life,
Fingernails digging into the skin,
But they don't pull away.
They keep me safe until my breathing slows,
Until I can finally open my eyes again,
And the world around me comes back,
Blurred and starry with tears.

They saved me again.