Suffocating

My haunting pasts grips around my throat, and I gasp for any breath I can get.

By now, I am too weak to fight off those gnarled hands from around my neck.

I allow my trauma to strangle me until I collapse.

I am already drowning in the abyss, so how can death be any worse?

I cannot be bothered to tread in these depths or attempt to float anymore.

I williingly sink to the seabed, my final resting place.

The ever-present Toronto smog and smoke permeate and burn my lungs every day.

I often forget to breathe. I find it easier that way.

All I do is gasp for air, and all I get is smoke.

It is better to abandon all hope and save my breath.

I will collapse from respiratory arrest and thankfully never see another miserable day.