November 30

Three in the morning, chest feeling

tight.

Left side burning, something ain't right.

Pulled to the shoulder, hazards on

bright, thinking this might be my

very last night.

Called nine-one-one, said, "I need help,

quick!" Operator stalling, time's ticking sick.

Hit SOS, Mercedes on blast.

Finally, someone treating this like it's

my last.

One-eighty over one-twenty, crisis on deck.

Treated like a criminal, got me

in check.

Called for an ambulance, not to

be pressed.

Just trying to survive, put my

heart to the test.

Nine-nine-one-one, who do I turn to

now?

When the ones showing up don't

care anyhow.

Ambulance rolled up, thought I'd be

saved.

Walked right past me, nightmare engraved.

Back of the rig, cop calling

me prey.

Blood pressure spiking, vision slipping away.

I pulled to the side, did

all I could do.

Gave them my story, thought they'd

follow through.

Twisted my words, turned my pain

to a lie.

If I don't make it, would

they even ask why?