It Can't Be My Grave

Suffocation, clawing the coffin walls, fingers worn to bloody stumps. Gasping for air, eyes rolling widely, panic attacks.
Send me ideafen me. Hallucinating, flashbacks of my life, I don’t want to die. Incarcerated, six feet from life, I know there’s no afterlife. I’m soon to become rotting meatnto hysterical frenzies, a premature burial, claustrophobic hell. It can’t be my grave! Traumatized, left for dead, my own screams