It’s dark in here.
Black as night.
Blacker still, as pitch.
It’s cold and confined.
The air is stale and stifling.
I can barely breathe.
What is this place?

My chest is tight.
My breath, shallow.
My heart is racing,
pulse pounding.
Fever building to a cold sweat.
Stubborn lungs
won’t compress.
I’m suffocating.
Deafening confusion
quiets my throat,

My ankles crack as I kick.
My finger nails splinter above me.
What is this?!

And peaceful silence
erupts within
my coffin.

© Jason JG Carnrike 2011

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