Fingers gripped around my throat
Slowly choking me of breath
My own addiction, to me it is:
Suicide; a painful death
Good days, I peel back one finger
Loosen the hold she has on me
Bad days, the grip tightens up
Losing air, struggle to see
Lucidity fades in and out
Points of strength are far between
Fighting against the pain within
To others a front for things unseen
And so I battle, day by day
Towards a glowing pin of light
Two steps forward, one step back
But closer to a future; bright.
All rights reserved. Nom 3rd July 2012.
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