The Silent Killer

Fri, 12/02/2016 - 12:21 -- Motag

The air feels thick and there’s a weight on my chest.

It’s getting harder to breath has seconds pass.

Not matter how hard I try,

I can’t seem to get the weight off.

I am now struggling to breathe.

My heart is racing.

I’m sweating.

I’m shaking.

I am terrified.

I feel as though everything is starting to cave in.

Why is no one doing anything?

Why is no one helping?

Do they not see how frightened I am?

Slowly I start to come back.

Reality is slowly sinking back in.

I look and there is nothing there crushing me,

but the weight is still there.

I still find it hard to breathe.

I see that I am shaking.

Why?

I have no clue.

My sight is blurry, oh,

I must’ve been crying.

I look around and see the reality that has sunken in.

I’m standing in front of a group of people.

No one has seem to notice that I was struggling.

I can’t tell how I should feel about this.

I feel better that my little “episode” went unnoticed,

but concerned that no one noticed or seemed to care.

I guess that’s what mental illness is.

The silent killer.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Chez

I agree with you so much...

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741