The panic sets in and my lungs
Turn into mice held in the tyrannical
Grasp of the boa constrictor.

Tsunami waves of fear rush over
The surface of my skin like the
Tremors of an earthquake.

Heat rises to my eyeballs,
Red from the hot springs that
Were leaking from their ducts.

Breathe. Calm. Repeat
Until it becomes a mantra,
Or perhaps a curse.

Hire the witch doctor to
Medicate me, and exorcise
The demons from my brain.

Breathe. Calm. Repeat.
Fake it till you make it,
At least that's what they say.