A stray thought knocks,
then nags,
playing freeze tag among
synapses.
Begging please.
No.
Not this.
Not now.
But as the walls close in,
breath grows thin
and becomes a limited commodity.
Lungs lock and capsize,
the key trapped inside,
swallowed by an irrational fear
that can’t be denied.
Heart races, then trips,
unable to keep pace
with the need to survive.
Get a grip–stay alive–
except there’s nothing
to hold on to.
No hope to get you through.
Nothing but a
dark, bleak chasm
that stretches and yawns
into infinity–
a mental maze of madness
with no way out.
And as you scream
and shake
and pray for release,
you face the unrelenting truth:
This never ends.
Not until the moment
your life really does cease.
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