Poetry and Short Stories

What's Happening

As I breath in and out,
I can't help but feel as if the air is stuck in my throat.
The air around me seems to tighten,
My body loses all motion.

It's to late at night to call for help.
Would anyone even care?
No one was ever there.
They don't love me,
They don't need me,
They'd be better without me.

Slowly as the time tics by,
The air loosens,
My body can move again,
So why does the voice still say those things to me?