8. Panic

8. Panic

 

back into the dreadful pool

I’m thrown like

when I was five

I couldn’t breathe immediately

I screamed underwater but

nobody heard

it felt like hours before

my dad pulled me out

now everything feels like

that water

 

swirling, swirling

swirling

my head’s an ocean

overflowing

out of my ears and my nose

it drips, it pours, it flows

it won’t stop swirling

I can’t see

 

try to find my footing, slipping

in the endless ocean

til it buries me in waves of uncertainty

it’s almost comforting to feel nothing

 

then my head bursts forth out of the water

and I can breathe again

and it hits me

that I don’t know where I’m going

or who or what I am

 

I’m running on the interstate

trucks honk, cars swerve

I keep my footing

hope my sneakers don’t get muddy

I bought them yesterday.

 

I’m falling into pages of my favorite book

falling, falling

head-first, hitting ground that’s strangely spongy

I think I must be Alice

but it’s not Wonderland I’m falling

into

 

It’s echos of your words

the ground is covered in them

the pages of my diary look suddenly so silly

fourth grade tears on rusty swings and

first-kiss dares and

sixth grade “but I thought he loved me”

 

but your words are so much more than merry-go-rounds and

ice cream trucks

prom dresses and blue makeup and

I know that I’ve grown up somehow

but growing up just feels like panic

 

an IV sucking the life out of me

scream for help, no one can hear

try to rip it out and it sinks deeper

 

there are teeth gnawing on my arm

there are snakes strangling my neck

there are fires right under my feet

there are words whispered in my ear

 

it all must be a dream

it all must be a dream

it all must be a dream

 

the pills say, it’s just a dream