When the space to breathe gets smaller and smaller
There’s no gasping, no panic,
Just darker and darker.
Another world of indifferent blankness –
Who cares whatever happens next?
No visions, no light, no thoughts.
An awareness of invasion, through an arm:
Just leave me alone, this isn’t dying you know,
It’s just a place where breathing is not needed,
Nor thoughts, just neutral nothing:
How pleasant.

An awareness of arm fiddling and pain –
Is this that thing called breathing again?
That’s quite nice, but the rest is not:
Prods and pokes, and I’m much too hot.
I’m not allowed back to that place of repose,
But urged to move forward – to what?

Who knows?


March 2023