Dive bombers, black wings spread,
satanic angels: Two crows attacked another
broken on the long grass,
consumed by grappling weeds,
unable to fly and imprisoned within
the soft melding soil as if caught
nesting; I watched from afar; a spectator at an accident
unwilling to intervene.
Darting beak, defending itself with desperate
protests: they swooped again and again-
stukas in the old war, squarking demonically
wings flapping like black pistons geared up for death-
again and again they drilled into the world of men
boring down until
in the fading light, head bowed,
the damaged crow surrendered
and vomitted out its last stored-up breath,
shining ebony slashed, in a flurry
of dangling flesh, its life hacked away-blood
dripping from its bill-
hacked away in the cold air,
its brothers, like brothers everywhere,
gorging on its flesh.

By then, I had had enough,
I refused to watch anymore. The bird
a meal for its own kind,
soon just scattered feathers
repositioning the light.
Its darkness, once a threat,
with its suggestion of forboding
now merely signalling innocence,
the victim of misrepresentation.
I left a scene that did not truly
embrace reflection, an unusual
carnival of life and death in a city
that rejected both.

Heavy breaths bounce in the corners of my room
while tears stream down my face as I wonder
what's the reason this time around.
In the back of my mind, I know for sure
why it's 1am and I can't sleep again.
It's scary to say it out loud.
I pull up my phone to distract my brain
since it seems like it can't keep quiet but
all the images remind me that I
don't have anyone to call to ask them
to help me out.
Even my dog leaves quietly towards
my parents' bedroom even though they
haven't got home yet.
I don't start to calm down until
these words make their way
into the notes on my phone.
I can breathe again.
- panic attack.

I’m suddenly bombarded by a wave of panic I’m slowly drowning
A unexplained darkness starts to surround me

I can feel the adrenaline course through my veins
I’m flooded by it’s sweet pain
I can’t wait for when this is over finally
My hands start shaking violently

Blood rushes to my cheeks turning them bright red
I can’t move I’m trapped inside my own head
I can’t think I can’t see everything’s getting foggy
An invisible serpent slithers it’s way up my body
Squeezing and squeezing it tightens as it’s makes its way to my neck
It’s slithers around me it’s so grotesque
Slowing curling around. It grips tighter and  tighter
My lungs are burning now they’re on fire

My throat starts to close and I can’t speak
My legs turn to rubber and they become so weak
***** is slowly rising burning its way up my throat
My chest feels as though it’s going to explode
I gasp for air as I silently choke
And the pressure will just increase
My stomach knots and hot tears slide down my cheeks
My heart beats rapidly to an ominous beat
I’m burning and sweating I can’t handle this heat
My panic clouds my brain and I can’t think
I collapse and shrink

My jaw is sore from gritting my teeth
I look fine on the outside but I’m fighting a silent battle underneath
I can’t breathe I can’t breathe I can’t breathe
Why won’t it stop why won’t it cease

With all this pain my teeth start to grind
I’m Held captive within my own mind

I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die
Why won’t it stop why why why
My anxiety is exploding in my brain
Im engulfed by this excruciating pain
It’s like a tidal wave of suffering I’m just trying not to be drowned
I’m screaming and suffocating but no one seems to hear a sound

But suddenly my anxiety starts to slowly relinquish its power
It’s only been a few minutes but it felt like hours
My heart  starts to slow and I start to relax
My ability to breathe slowly comes back
I look down surprised to find my body intact
I’m fine it was just another panic attack

It's 12:12 am, October 1st.
Just a couple of more hours till the day I came into the world 26 years ago.
I am watching videos on YouTube about random things that end up leading me here,
to write a poem about my panic attack just minutes ago.

As I write this down, straight out of my head, my eyes feel swollen and tired.
My head is throbbing and dried up tears are in my ear from laying in bed.
The stupidest, most random thing set off this horrible mental pain.
A WatchMojo video about the top most anticipated movies coming to 2019.
'So silly and dumb', I'm sure you are thinking.

It is as if someone had pulled the trigger inside.
A blast of mental anguish just hits you.
My hands are in front of my eyes, covering them, as if I consciously knew something frightening was to come.
I cry so hysterically that I can't tell what hurts more,
to keep on crying or to stop crying.
Both are painful.
My whole abdomen and legs quiver as I try to settle myself into serenity.

My thoughts began to race into marathons.
'It's almost my birthday. ******* I am getting old.
I don't talk to my father, does he even care, does he care to know if I'm dead or alive?
Why am I the only person in my O.G. group, to still have no personal society conformed accomplishments achieved?
I have no marriage, no babies, no owned property, no successful career.
I must be a disappointment to my parents, especially my loving mom.
I am such a loser seen by my family.'

This spur of the moment thoughts are still lingering there.
Creepily crawling back slowly but I keep trying to shine a light on this monster for it not to come out again.
Sadly, I know for a fact it will come right back again.
No matter how bright I shine a light on this annoying villain.
Always lurking in the dark.

The panic is building inside,
Making it feel like a rollercoaster ride.
I thought that I was happy,
But now unlocked feelings have set free,
Leaving me with inner conflict,
Unsure which direction to pick.
My stomach tightens at thought of action,
While my former strength loses traction,
One moment I want to flee,
The next moment I am proud to be.
What am I running from this time?
Would playing hookie be such a crime?
If it meant discovering this truth,
And abandoning this depressing sleuth.
I want to shake off this darkness,
Before I am left feeling sparkless.
I want to break down these walls,
Before another part of me falls,
Leaving me a shell of myself,
Hungry for knowledge and lacking wealth.
I must invite the light in,
So that this darkness will spin.
I still feel the rumble of panic,
Leaving my thoughts helpless and frantic,
Encouraging motivation to flee,
So I can be alone, and free.

sometimes it feels like

I have so many people around me
but I am so alone.

that I am happy and healthy,
but I feel disease creeping through my bones.

that I want to run
but my body is heavy and numb

I'm so hot
I'm too cold

I'm too young to die
but too unsure to be old

like being trapped in a bubble
panicking, wanting free

trying to ground myself
in some sort of familiarity.

lump in my throat
body twitching in bed

how can I feel too alive
yet feel
so dead.

It feels like ants are crawling over my hands and removing the skin to carry back to their hill.
My eyes are like two cotton *****, dry and heavy.
There is a blockage in my throat like a python has curled up in a ball right at the back of my neck.
And now my torso is no longer connected to my legs,
they are two separate entities.
One scrambling around the room trying to find something to do
while the other half lays stuck in bed, too heavy to even lift a skeletal finger.
The ants have take away all the skin and muscle from my hands to build their nest.
But it's not enough so they make their way down my throat, past the python, to my stomach, where they begin devouring me from the inside out.
Once all that’s left is a graveyard of bones,
the ants move along,
onto the next source for their ever-growing hill.
My skeleton is left to the elements,
well as much of the elements it can be exposed to laying in a pile of sheets and comforter.
I shed one last tear from my eye socket even though there are no tear ducts left for me to use.
My soul fades completely from the scene as the last straggling ant jumps from my skull and the python abandons the vertebrae left behind, needing a new food source to thrive.
A sad sack of bones,
what’s left of me lays in the bed as everything around it falls apart year after year.
Until all the decay is over and the process of rebirth begins.
Saplings shoot up through my ribcage
and flowers grow through the eye sockets where my tears used to fall silently.
Beauty replaces the feelings of death and dread as
the last piece of my soul is finally laid to rest.