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The Countdown

Updated on September 19, 2015

One finger

Fear has settled

Eyes open, pleading


Her lips begin to tremble

The bed soft underneath her

Hair falls to the pillowcase

All around, everything falls

All around

Nowhere is she safe

Her mind begins to frantically search

Wondering how?

Wondering what wishes she could make

To keep evil sound


To keep it at bay

Instead of being drowned in its dark waters

With each passing day

There is no air and yet

Her hair sways

Almost hypnotizing

Almost enough to take her away

But that's when

Two fingers creep

Confirmation settles

What little love had blossomed

Now blows away

Like wilted petals

Paralyzed, she prays

Asks God why

But there is no answer

No sound

Only silence

Overwhelming silence

In which her ears drown


She swears not to cry

Feels even more helpless when

The tears run down her cheeks and dry

Didn't want to give in

To lose control


Three fingers pressing


The room grows too tight and

Suddenly, to be far away seems

So refreshing, so light

Instead of silence

Words glazed in poison hit her

Her vision grows hazy

Sights around too much to take

Pressure builds but

There is no panic

She has no fight

For her minds as numb as the

Bottle of Xanax she vows to take

If she makes it through this night

If she can survive

It's only when

Four fingers

Does she wonder if this time

She'll make it out alive

She blocks out noise

Blocks out her surroundings

Instead, she hears a river and

She's floating

No longer drowning

The color green sweeps across her eyes and


Her head feels like a balloon

So she flies to somewhere serene

Her body is afloat on

A bed of dreams

Calmness overtakes and finally

Five fingers come

She is snapped back to reality

Her escape broken

All she she sees now is that

Five fingers are grabbing

Her throat,


Her face feels ready to burst

She deserves this, he tells her,

She is bad

Filthy, stupid, a curse

But worse

Is the lack of air

No breath

She can't go on much longer

Her body's suffocating

So close to death

He spits on her,

His smile twisted

Her chest is empty

She longs to perhaps visit

Somewhere other than

Being strangled

Five fingers let go and

She gasps to breathe

Only to choke on the air

Desperately heaving for relief

Desperately aching for a release

For an escape

Until the door opens

A stranger breaks

Asking if everything is okay

She knows the situation

Knows to him she must depend

So she raises

One finger

A smile of pretend

And the door closes

Cycle continuing again


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