V I R A G O - M E R A K I

A Turbulent delirium within
the throat.
breathe.
White noise, a drowning reverberation
Of the crowds,
Breathe.
Hands trembling, teeth clenched, the feeling of Sweat trickled
down my face as my stomach and body revolted against itself,
the rampages of a swollen heart slammed its self against its cage.
BREATHE.
Iron, the taste of it saturated the air.
it was a fight against the internal voice, a fight against the individual clasping my hand.
breathe.
Straps on.
Purples, blues, and black patch work, were the medals of countless excruciating
nights,
Every fiber ached, a fire scorched, enveloped me,
bodies collide, crashing, clawing,
rasping out for the others will.
breathe.
I can’t lose, I’m not going to. Time seemed to last eternally, eating away at the remaining fight I had left.
breathe.
Numbers, the numbers would save
Or ruin me.
The body beneath mine slumped, fury of once hopeful victory seeped from their eyes as the last count was called.
breathe.
Hand raised, the corners of cracked bloodied lips twitches, an exhausted smile.
breathe.

This poem is about: 
Me
Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741