Three AM

I wake with a racing heart—
the room still somewhere else.

​

The air is heavy,
pressed against my chest.

​

A hand around my neck—
immovable,
merciless,

mine.

​

No leverage.

​

The grip is gone—
not released,
not loosened—

just
gone.

​

Shaking.
Sweat-slicked.

Skin electric.

​

The night releases.

​

Daylight finds me
already exhausted.