Don't breathe.
Don't do it.
I know it burns, deep inside your lungs.
I know the tears are pushing, so intent on escaping your weak little eyes.
I know the cries are becoming too sharp, too desperate to hold in.
I know it's hard.
I know it hurts.
I know.

Don't breathe.
Don't do it.
They will hear you.
They will know you lost, you gave in.
They will ask you why you are upset, as if they don't know.
They will look at you with their caring eyes and bore holes into you.
They will crush you.
They will.

Don't breathe.
Don't do it.
Breathing will make your head spin out of control.
Head as light as baby's black balloon.
The reality will set in, and you will know this is real.
There will be no escape from the paralyzing pain coursing through your body.
The world will start caving in on you, and the world is so heavy.
You will be pushed and pulled in so many directions at the same time.

Don't breathe.
Don't do it.
Your brain will eventually stop thinking, your heart will forget the hurt.
Your dreams will start to form again, they will bring you back.
Your body will not cry out any more.
So just don't breathe.
Not now, not yet.
Don't do it.