In those Moments Between…

Panic starts as a wave cramping my toes. Slowly crawling up my legs as an echo, soft and vicious; a plane dropping while still in flight. Hitting it’s fist on my chest like a drum. Bang, bang, BANG! I can’t eat, can’t think of sleep. If only to close my eyes and float above but my breath does not want to touch my lungs as my heart races like a runaway. Frantic I check my pulse and check it again; I’m dying! Am I dying? There is no inside or out, no difference between. It’s all the same… I watch them move, the normal people. They never cease. On their phones, speaking, pacing. I can do none of this. Slowing slipping away unnoticed and afraid to tell the tale as words sit and quiver upon my tongue in a whisper but I am screaming.
What I need is a cigarette. The room to fill with smoke as it burns my eyes trying to see. Still afraid to make a sound, any word left is bound.  My cigarette between my fingers waiting to be lit though I don’t know what to do next. I listen to them telling of how to get out of this place but where would I go? I think it’s cold, I touched the glass of the window in my room. Angered that I can’t make it stop. Strand by strand my hair deserts me within my other hand. I refuse to look in the mirror, though it moans to see me. Will I sleep bundled beside the ill? I know their names for they are apart of me still.
If you’re trying to find out who I am then look closer here between the walls of my thoughts. You won’t feel my heartbeat even though it has not stopped. No love will safely find my home. I have given everything to the other side of life. So let me go! Let my memory be enough. Time will never heal what you truly know.
Fumbling for my lighter; cigarette between my fingers still. Trembling within as I finally exhale.

autobiografia

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