Breathing Death (Execptional)

I seem to die,
Every time I think about it,
The sickening feeling,
Absorbing all the worlds pain,
Feeling my heart being torn out,
My feelings shredded into thousands of pieces,
Not wanting to move to another moment,
The future black and cold,
The nature of peace becomes unclear,
The love that I once was warm within,
Has become a clot choking me,
My soul and mind,
Burning with the thought of death,
That lives within the sound I hear,
Everyday the pain is worse,
The pain is more real,
Tearing my flesh,
Eating my mind,
The thoughts of my death,
Is my only Peace,
Terror rests as my last word.

"I Value This"

Ian Robert Potapoff