There is no feeling quite as terrifying as not being able to breathe <br /> <br />You heave and choke for the oxygen that moments before <br />Sang sweetly down your throat; <br />Now catching in your closing airway <br />(Sea water against the walls of the city) <br />Always the dull ache behind your eyes, the world blurring before you <br /> <br />Remembering those speech therapy sessions you place one trembling hand <br />On the abdomen, guiding the air through your nose <br />(Hoping to slam open the ever-closing vocal cords) <br /> <br />You fight to be filled with the loose air floating around you, <br />you inhale <br />The bright hot pain of airless lungs trying to expand <br /> <br />There is no knowledge quite as terrifying as this: <br />You are the only one who can save you. <br /> <br />Short of tracheotomy, <br />No pills, <br />Men in white lab coats, <br />Or inhalers <br />Can make you breathe. <br /> <br />You are your own hero. <br />Sheets of breathing techniques, diagrams <br />Of the throat, vocal folds, diaphragm, <br />Lungs, rules: water, water, and more water <br />It’s all in knowing your limits, trusting yourself <br />To breathe <br /> <br />It’s the most terrible kind of independence. <br /> <br /> <br />(for more info on Vocal Cord Dysfunction visit <br />www.cantbreathesuspectvcd.com)<br /><br />gina prettybrowneyes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sometimes-i-sound-like-an-accordion/
