Sometimes I wake up startled in the middle of the night,
Because I dreamed of a hand around my neck so tight.
Withholding air from my body,
But as I dart my eyes I see nobody.
Instinctively I try and fight it off,
But I end up with a deeper heave and cough.
It takes a minute, two or nine,
To realize the choking hand is mine.
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 12:36 PM UTC
Sometimes I wake up startled in the middle of the night,
Because I dreamed of a hand around my neck so tight.
Withholding air from my body,
But as I dart my eyes I see nobody.
Instinctively I try and fight it off,
But I end up with a deeper heave and cough.
It takes a minute, two or nine,
To realize the choking hand is mine.
Request permission to use this poem