Beset

Beset

It starts with the shakes,
a slight tremble that begins with my fingers
and runs to my toes.
The blood rushes through my veins,
too fast, spiked with adrenaline.

The shudders get worse.
And I know how a junkie feels
when he goes through withdrawal.
But I’m no addict,
there’s nothing physically wrong with me.
Just panic without control.

My chest tightens, my lungs collapse,
like someone has trapped them in a metal vise.
Or maybe there’s just no air
and I’m drowning in my living room.

I know in a few minutes it’ll pass
and lethargy will wrap my body in warmth.
All I need is a little control, a little strength,
and one deep breath.