Suffocation at Its Best by Patrick Attaway

Between two walls,
between trouble and relief,
a stand is made to redeem a mind.

On one side it’s perish,
the other it’s chance.
The room is filling,
the space is closing.

Suffocation at its best.
In the thoughts,
some frustration is seen.

Chocking from the earful of harsh words.
Maybe it’s not so critical,
but it could be worse.

Lungs pant,
and the tension rises.
Suffocation at its best.
A friend,
close but so far.

A lover on the other side.
I don’t seem able to choose;
I’m losing my own self.

Leading me on to doom or solitude,
I’m not sure if I’m here to stay or go.
Suffocation is weakening me.
Suffocation at its best.

©Patrick Attaway 2012

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