Panic Attack

What lies await outside my front door

Who is out there ready to settle a score

My brain yells out a warning to stay put

Each time the door opens more than a foot

All of my muscles tremble and quake

I suddenly feel very much awake

Sweat beads up on my brow and neckline

I tell myself maybe I can do it this time

Most days I can’t… I’d rather be dead

Is any of it real, or is it all in my head

I want to believe life can be better than this

That I’ll wake up tomorrow and find my bliss

Bed is a sanctuary and torture device

My body hurts from being tossed all night

No exercise and no fresh air

The lack of sunshine keeps me fair

Black moods are best kept to myself

Locked away and put up on a shelf

My mind often wanders to dreary places

It goes back and forth in unsteady paces

I live in silent rooms full of dim light

Trying to cope with this senseless fright

It comes in silently on little cats’ feet

With a swiftness I can’t begin to defeat