1.1.11

Panic 2001

In quiet, or in rushing day
My reaction is the same
When those uninvited feelings
Encroach upon the corners of my mind

They stick their slender fingers in the unattended shadows
They shift, expand, consume me with their choking presence

They have no eyes, they cannot see the pain they cause
They have no ears to hear me plead for my release
But they find me with their stretching fingers and fill me with their vacant bodies

My soul reacts – it shrinks away from them
It becomes small and tight, until I can barely feel it inside me
I try to hold on to it, I want to keep it close to me
But it slips through my trembling grasp

I can sometimes hear it sigh, and rattle on my bones
But only when I hold my breath

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