Suffocation isn’t always hand on neck,
Squeezing, pressing down,
Blocking off air death.
Suffocation is the man with his tie tightened around his tender neck
Every morning 5 am
He is told he needs to work hard (and overtime) to feed his family
Does he not care about them?
Whittle his soul down to a single strand of consciousness,
Again and again,
Exhausted, stressed
Failing relationships,
Doesn’t speak to parents,
Hasn’t seen wife in 3 weeks
But work, yes bills, more important.
Work till you die,
Profit first everything else second.
Suffocation is the student,
Hand squeezing pen,
Eyes shut,
Failed another test,
She didn’t have time to study,
Deadlines,
Homework,
Projects,
overwhelming,
pushing her down,
tries to scream fails can't breathe,
silent cries for help unnoticed,
passion for learning depleted cold and dark and alone,
anxious, trembling, when will the next test be when will the next failure come when

suffocating dying restricted.
not always hand on neck restricting.
Sometimes, it's the restriction of the mind;restriction of the soul.

As a poet,
I have some
sort of “sickness”.
A “disease” that
makes me cough
cold, raw, inky words.
It forms sentences
you never heard
out of me before.

On endless hours
of sitting in a
room alone,
my throat
hurts so badly.
Someone sliced it
open with a knife—
I lost my broken voice
in the process—
But not my soul

The young woman strikes a vending machine
minutes after seeing her test score.

The young man enjoys lunch under an evergreen.

Her previous night, nothing but a smoke screen.
A new substance leads to a new door.
The morning after, she strikes a vending machine.

He drinks cool water from his canteen.
Not a care in the world; therefore,
the young man enjoys lunch under an evergreen.

More distressed than she’s ever been,
she makes her way to a liquor store.
She treats it like a vending machine.

Brushing the dirt off his shoulder since nineteen,
and sure of what he stands for.
Enjoying lunch under an evergreen.

The distressed girl finds her way to a guillotine.
While collected young man stands up for an encore

After many morning afters, she sells herself
like food from a vending machine
While the young man enjoys lunch under an evergreen

In the bliss of a given chance
there are heartbeats in a trembling rhythm.
i ask God why he gave me these hands
when i can't even help myself with them.