There’s a lump in my throat.

I’m being choked.

My eyes well up with tears.

My face scrunches up.

There is an intangible feeling of utter despair.

Or pity, or disappointment, or many.

It’s as if my throat is welling up with tears, as if the air is leaving such dilapidation, there’s nothing to describe it.

There is an intangible hand grabbing my neck,

Digging it’s nails into the skin of this monster.

Your hair falls into your eyes, as if protecting you from the outcome of your sins.

I claw at your steady hands.

Trying to hold your hand for the very last time.