no theme, just thoughts | poems

37.

As the grip on my neck tightens
And my lungs run out of air
I sense the feeling that frightens
And threatens me once it's there

The feeling of a heavy weight
Now pressed against my chest
Fills my heart with fear and hate
While my soul still longs for rest

I know this grip is nothing more
Than a feeling strong and real
And the weight is my internal war
That messes with how I feel

One day my lungs will be filled again
And the fear will be long gone
Even my heart will be at peace and then
I'll be ready to move on