The Silent Killer
The air feels thick and there’s a weight on my chest.
It’s getting harder to breath has seconds pass.
Not matter how hard I try,
I can’t seem to get the weight off.
I am now struggling to breathe.
My heart is racing.
I’m sweating.
I’m shaking.
I am terrified.
I feel as though everything is starting to cave in.
Why is no one doing anything?
Why is no one helping?
Do they not see how frightened I am?
Slowly I start to come back.
Reality is slowly sinking back in.
I look and there is nothing there crushing me,
but the weight is still there.
I still find it hard to breathe.
I see that I am shaking.
Why?
I have no clue.
My sight is blurry, oh,
I must’ve been crying.
I look around and see the reality that has sunken in.
I’m standing in front of a group of people.
No one has seem to notice that I was struggling.
I can’t tell how I should feel about this.
I feel better that my little “episode” went unnoticed,
but concerned that no one noticed or seemed to care.
I guess that’s what mental illness is.
The silent killer.