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Tag Archives: lung disease

I Cant Breathe

07 Saturday Nov 2015

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

lung disease, suicide

I wake up with what feels like an Elephant sitting on

my chest

The pain is relentless I haven’t had any rest

I stand at the Toilet my Heart is racing and my stream

wont flow

My life has hit the skids

It is at an all time low

Just don’t squeeze cause I cant breathe

Sitting at the Kitchen table the Coffee is percolating

I am running late

Am I keeping the World waiting?

But whether I am on time or not the Earth will still revolve

I have this problem that I don’t think I can solve

Has the Earth got an edge cause I want to jump off it

Cause it has reached the stage where I really don’t give

a shit

Just don’t squeeze cause I cant breathe

My Lungs are burning

Smoke and haze choke my airways

I cant breathe

Am I dying?

I cant breathe

Fuck it I am tired of trying

I sit on the Bus all the other passengers are talking

But I am silent

Am I a dead man walking?

Am I invisible?

Have I ever existed?

I am that present that is always re gifted

My ego has taken a hit

My self esteem is in the shit

Just don’t squeeze cause I cant breathe

I am in plain sight

Or am I just smoke and mirrors

Is this life worth the fight?

Or I could just end it with a pair of one armed Scissors

I have a pain inside that just want quit

I am tired of taking a hit after hit after hit

Just don’t squeeze cause I cant breathe

Is there life after death?

Maybe I am about to find out

Will I go quietly or with a shout?

Who will greet me?

The good Angel or the bad Angel from Hell

I can hear the sound of my final mournful Bell

My solution came in the shape of a Bullet from a Gun

Maybe now that I am dead I can finally have some fun

You can stop squeezing

Cause I have stopped breathing

So I have finally died

Now I just float around in space

Is that a smile or a frown on my face?

Some will say that I died too early

Some will say that I died too late

I couldn’t care less what people think

People are a bunch of Arseholes

At least I was the Captain of my own fate

People will come to my Funeral just to make sure that

I am gone

I lay in my Casket

I cant hear my Funeral song

As the mourners leave the Church crying or smiling

The Motherfuckers are all the same

As they get outside into the Sunshine

They have already forgotten my name

I am no longer breathing

Thank fuck for that.

THE END

Thank you for taking the time to read one of my stories and if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can achieve my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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