panic attacks

It is within our hands... It hovers over our heads...

It is within our hands…
It hovers over our heads…

 

 

Man your lungs, my friend, for here it comes:

The Big Swell.

You don’t breathe, I don’t breathe,

Yet we’re breathing too fast.

 

My pulse is racing ahead,

Whose body am I inhabiting?

I am besides myself with fear,

With fear that I’m still trapped inside my skin

My skin is pushing,

I’m being re-born and I father myself,

I have no mother and this biological impossibility gnaws at me.

 

Reason returns, and with it, a name-tag, to hide the fear.

The fear that in the Beginning there was nothing

And then, conveniently, came the Word.

Let’s hide together?

 

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