Blank sheets that smother
gasping breaths.
That eradicate the apparent
corrosive thoughts
that break
through the silence
into the night air on my pillow.
Hide me
sheets that crumple
with your flimsy hope
of shelter.
Your void promise
of rainbow dreams.
Oxygen defies my lungs,
panic overwhelms.
If only for it to end now...
That bittersweet imagining 
of the sudden cease of existence.
That vile cowardice that creeps
up my ragged throat.
The instantaneous surge
of concentrated hatred
for myself,
for who. I. am.

Take me away.

I don't want to be
here
where the walls collapse
and the debris piles.
I choke on these charred remaints,
sulphurus words.
I am nothing,
this place only reflects
my emptiness,
that supressing wave 
of dillusion.
Freedom is an ache
that consumes my bones,
permeated by visions
of liberal air.
Revulsion creeps into each crevice,
I am claustrophobic.
Why is there no escape?
From myself 
from who. I. am.

I can't breathe
anymore.