The Drift


Left for dead.
Unable to breathe and nobody around,
I yearn for the oxygen 
That fills my lungs and gives me life.

Gasping for air.
The sweet sweet air that I cannot 
Get into my lungs
Realization sets in.

I panic.
In my mind I scream but from my mouth
Comes a noise that 
I don't relate to.

But in this moment,
I relate.  For the one not breathing is me.
And I know death is upon me.
I feel it with every gasp.

Darkness comes.
Sounds of people, am I saved?
Or is this simply a hallucination
My mind a trickster to my hope.

I know not
How many times I regain 
A little consciousness
Or the duration of which I am alert.

Am I alert?
Or is this the trickery of my mind.
This can't be real.
But I hear people.

Then it's over.
As the solid flatline beep of
The machine fades
I drift into silence.

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Woodworth
Woodworth

I'm just a guy with a lot of different hobbies: Improv, Santa portrayer, Turquoisine Grass Parakeets, Writing (playwright, blogs, etc.), ParakeetPro founder and Acting.


The Writings or What's in My Head
The Writings or What's in My Head

I'm a playwright, having written and directed a one act called "In a Fortnite." I also periodically feel inspired just to write stories, poems or prose. I find writing therapeutic.

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