breathe another day

by justine

it is 4:33 in the morning and i can’t sleep.

my chest is constricted. taking a deep breath is all but impossible. trying to breathe past the barrier feels like you’re about to snap a rubber band.

it is 4:34 in the morning and i can’t lie down.

the phlegm in my lungs threatens to drown me. hacking spasming coughs wrack my body every odd second. i might as well sit up to anticipate the next.

it’s 4:36 in the morning and my heart is racing.

i’ve downed another ventolin (which doesn’t seem to help). my hands are shaking and at 124 bpm, i feel like i can go into cardiac arrest any minute.

it’s 4:38 in the morning, and i just want to get some rest. please.