All the whispers



4/10/16 A poem about a living nightmare

This feeling...

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.


This feeling....

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.



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