Panic

The water thrums
against my skin,
hot droplets cascading
and sliding
from the tips
of my fingers,
and I’m thinking
about what I’d say
if I wrote you a letter.
Words like ,
“I’m sorry
for not having the ability
to let you go.”
These lines
I wish you’d hear
float through my mind
as I soap my hair
and scrub my face.
Each twitch
of your eye
and curl
of your lip
flash behind my lids
as shower warmth
rinses away the day.
And then the air stops
and I’m drowning
in the rain,
enclosed in this tight chamber
of clean
and air is mud
in my throat
and the heat
from my tears
burns fire
through the cool water
lingering on my cheeks.
Heart beats
fast and
faster and
I can’t find breath.
From nowhere,
words turn
to visceral reactions
and bodily interruptions.
I can’t help it.
I’m broken
and I can’t stop
the panic
when it comes.
My body
and heart
scream for you
but my brain seems
to stay at the helm,
eclipsing the desires
of my soul.

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