It's like the devil has an undying clutch that gets tighter the more I breathe.
She steals the air around me throwing me into a vaccum, gasping for air.
Flailing my arms in an attempt to hold on to something;
Something to ground me to the world;
Something to plant my feet in the soil-
Stop me from floating away into the unforgiving void.
Stop me from leaving this plane of existence.
Please...
Stop me from ending my life in hopes that by some miracle, God exists and forgives all who sin.
The signs point to a path,
But I can see an exit not far from me,
And its in the opposite direction than the one the world wants me to go...
YOU ARE READING
The Process of
PoetryThis whole book is a poem made up of smaller poems. It's a story of someone that is struggling through life. It's up to you to decipher your own story through this. #7 in haiku July 18, 2018 #1 in enlightenment July 18, 2018 -EasonV (Free verse and...
