The Ride

Antsy, shaky, and can’t sit still.
The world spins in chaotic circles around me.
Time stands still.
The sounds. All sounding like nails on a chalk board.
Nausea, sweats, goosebumps.
Stomach churning, back aches
and fanning hair just isn’t working.

The walls stay in place as they slowly move in.
Every inhale, every exhale, brings those walls closer.
Toxic fumes in the world outside
leaving me with no point of exit.
Which means no escape and no running.
Left in torture and suffering.
Until this ride comes to a complete stop.


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Mike
    Jun 30, 2014 @ 06:46:17

    Judicious language in this poetic panic has given the piece a voice of authenticity. Nice work.


  2. lacunakittie
    Jun 30, 2014 @ 07:45:25

    šŸ˜€ Thank you very much!


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