Asphyxia.

I woke up this morning choking again, struggling to cough and clear my airways, the ones all clogged by nightmares and dry air. I find it hard to speak. The words in my mouth are all wrong; they taste bitter. I'm afraid that I'll die in my sleep with secrets on my tongue, heart all parched and arid.

Afraid of the dark, I cuddle my blankets under my chin and protect my little larynx as I fall back into the agony of sleeplessness.