Everything went black.
I need more air, more time, more space.
Gasping for air is never more painful than in the heat of a panic attack.
Hyperventilating all of my fears away; it engulfs me, body and soul.
Dad holds me close trying to drown out the shakes.
“Breathe.”
Sure, I would breathe-
I would breathe, but my lungs are torn in two;
Struck with shock and rage.
The surrounding premises blurs out,
Hearing fades out into the abyss of nothingness.
Tremors escalate to a petrifying climax,
Just as the cold sweats join the party- uninvited.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe, God dammit.
Dad, where is the air?
Like a rag doll,
My limbs quiver uncontrollably.
Anxiety- my puppeteer.