Coffin

Darkness, 

lying still, 

two eyes blinking slowly in black– Trapped. 

I’m not dead yet. 

A sheet of suffocating air, 

Growing thinner with every gasp. I’m not dead yet. 

Hands trembling,

Knuckles knock against hard wood. 

Shallow breaths, 

In 

out, 

In, 

Out. 

Dry lips, dry throat, 

Cry out for release. 

Silence 

is the only response. 

Frail hands bang against 

confinement. 

I’m not dead yet. 

A desperate scream escapes, But echoes 

right back. 

Fear is a monster, 

enveloping him with sharp claws. 

I’m not dead, 

yet.