Panic

When he descends
Your throat tightens
So air is drawn through the thinnest of straws

Your palms become springs
Flowing forth
Your shoulderblades
Bound by a million elastic bands

Your skin is lawncotton
Picking up every speck of dirt
It’s flypaper catching every bug
To keep crawling
Across your surface

Within, a stampede of palaminos
Trample the wind from you
Your own thoughts
Eat you from the inside out
You jitter and falter
Exhausted but wired

The breathing helps
It levels and paces
In and out
In and out
Calm washing
Pacing
Breath after breath

At peace
In time, keeping pace
At peace
The calm after the storm

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