It happens every night.
The icy hand grabs my neck.
I am trapped.
I can’t breathe.
My chest feels like it’s going to explode.
It’s getting tighter.
I may not make it.
The cold sweat takes over.
The icy hand releases its grip.
I breathe through tears
I peer into the darkness.
Don’t come back, I whisper.
I reach for the Xanax.
It’s the only thing that keeps it away....
