The Sickness Part 5: Anxiety
That sticky, sweaty
That never goes away.
You can gag,
But your heart still races
And your stomach still churns.
It’s not butterflies
But a million wild horses galloping,
Threatening to take control
It’s your mind racing at a million miles an hour,
But being unable to make sense of any thoughts.
It’s that fight or flight syndrome,
And it’s nearly won.
tagged as: PTSD. anxiety. nerves. panic attack. generalised anxiety disorder. poetry. poem.
posted on June 17, 2011