There's a place in my body
that I can't quite place, but I
can feel it clenching and forcing
my swollen heart to race.

It roars when I'm home or
alone or with my love, but worse
yet when I need to depart from
them...when I'm empty of...

I don't know. I'm bombarded
with second guesses and pain,
wondering when I'll escape the
giant burden of blame,

that I push on myself with un-
reasonable expectations. And
feel inept and full of bitter, hateful
sensations.

Feels that shock my system in
whole. Static emotion that shocks
each person I hold, so near and dear
to a heart so true, that I want to squeeze on to my comforts like glue.

But I end up squeezing myself instead,
with anxiety and panic and sadness and dread. I don't have anyone or anything to blame, except a disorder
that strangles me ever so plain.

Don't I dare announce it or share it to all, for the risk of judgement, stigma: society's fatal flaws. The aftermath would be too gruesome to bear, so for
now I'll attempt to do what I can: repair.