TW: Mild gore
Panic
It starts with a s u r g e
not like a seizure’s electrical storm
but a thickening of your skull
soupy membranes turned slick and wiry
veins puffed up and tangled
Entrapped in your mind
the heat pounds heavy and gross
filling your ears with thoughts
taking no form, no substance
unintelligible thoughts of the present and future
And exposure
a naked vulnerability as eyes find you
where all senses and sense of peace have eroded
and you question whether peace ever was
or was it always anticipation?
of a quiet that won’t last
But you beg for one that lasts
you stupidly, ridiculously beg for one that lasts
for a tranquil touch you swore you used to know
Was it seconds ago or longer
so familiar and so far
with tainted bones
a brain stained and comprehending
that a dull poison
will still kill you
