Chris Miller


a poem about how I experience an anxiety attack

It starts small, with a feeling
The animal notices it first
The unsettled heart
The shifting of the self
Then the rumble
And something falls
Shattering with a crash
The moment has passed but the expectation remains
Waiting for the next crash
Waiting for the quake
When it all comes
Tumbling down

And then the running,
Get out get out before the house falls on you
Get in your car, drive far far away
Until you cannot feel it chasing you

Maybe you lost it
Maybe you outpaced the aftershock
But maybe not

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