4/10/16 A poem about a living nightmare
Like trying to breathe under water.
The pressure in your lungs building and building
and you try to shout for help...
but the water rushes in.
Like too many blankets
on a too warm night in bed,
with all the tossing and turning and sweating
and you fall out of bed in the morning, exhausted.
What a good night's rest.
...and the whispers...
all the whispers in your head,
restlessly incessantly eager.
Nastily urging you on,
always pushing, needing, wanting...
and you shake your head
for a moment's respite.