Blood ran from my knuckles
as I studied my trembling hands, numb to the pain I knew I should feel there.
A weight settled on my chest.
My blood pounded in my ears. The drugs obscured my vision. The air deprived me of what I needed.
The invisible grip around my throat tightened.
He's coming for me again. My lungs couldn't find oxygen. I was drowning.
My knees finally gave out underneath me.
The phone rang on the floor. I closed my eyes and laid back against the wall. Go away. Please.
The tears slid down my face.
My hands raked through my hair. My body betrayed me, frozen. The phone still buzzed on the floor.
Is this what it means to be alive?
Constantly fighting for air, Struggling to breathe around him.
And yet he tells me every time,
I can't when your hands are on my throat.