Panic Attacks

It’s this pinch in my stomach

I can’t help but wiggle and writhe on the floor

Then my head feels swollen like I pumped it with a can of whipped cream, except there’s no whipped cream inside; only puffy, sweet madness of air pressure

My heart goes on overdrive and grows wings made out of swords, flying right out my eyes, oh Lord

I give in to the fatigue and collapse on the floor, vomit on the tip of my brain but not my tongue

Then fear takes hold of me. Fear of breathing. Fear of not breathing. Fear that if I don’t get out of this place, wherever I am, I’ll die a slow painful death. I’ll suffocate.

I run to nowhere end up somewhere. Choking on my tears, somehow I’m crying now. Freezing weather outside and the only barrier between my body and the punching cold air is a damp towel wrapped around me.

My brain freezes over and is numb; my realization that my hair is wet because I just got out the shower.

Confronted and told to come inside the house, I scream to be alone and for everyone to stay away from me.

Naked with my fear, my sickness.

Moments passed; my resistance took a break. Both them and me, allowing me to stumble back inside and fall to my knees. I pray for peace.

My tears fade to soft hums of discomfort. I see worried eyes of a child, instructing me to go lay down; I oblige.

My hair steams from the extreme temperature change, and I fall to a cozy slumber of forgetting; dreaming that this would be the last

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