i had a headache when i walked
into class and even though you were
at the opposite end of the classroom, it
felt as though glass was
crushing against the back of my
skull and there were spots of black and
blue and bruises in my eyes and i
couldn't feel anything but the
bile in my throat, not even my
lungs could tell if i was
breathing

when i fell into
the darkness which people often call the
pseudonym of "passing out" and my
instructor shook me awake, pulling me
from the depths of the unfeeling
(and how i longed to remain there),
i couldn't answer the question of
"why" and simply stated the cause
to be dehydration instead of panic.

you attempted to make eye contact with me
whilst people had me ingest water
against the currents of the bile
and i just can't look at you
without succumbing to all things
you might've read about panic
disorders and ptsd and lonely
women and sometimes
there's this wound nestled in my
chest and it refuses to heal properly
because you make me feel loneliness
in the worst of ways.

i don't want this. i don't need
you. i never did.