Photo by Engin Akyurt on

A hand, rough,
wrapped high around my throat.
Now pinned inside the emptiness,
and held within the cold.
Where it is quiet and still.
Where it is dark and near

It comes to me,
sudden and overpowering.
Faceless and invisible yet somehow

Clenching tighter, 
offering a promise heard within the
And from somewhere, 
a forced inhale, deep,
Saving- but just prolonging.

And then the pull from within
that aches to implode.
To succumb and let go.
If I beg with my eyes
will it squeeze tighter 
and let me fade away?