Panic Attack Poetry Theater

Something I wrote while actually having a severe panic attack. I'm amazingly functional in my almost constant state of panic.

Her brain is not rage, but a quilt made of fear.

It doesn't make sense and it does make sense.

He wants to save her.

He tries.

He picks at the stitching, makes holes for her to breathe.

It works, until she suffocates again.

One day her heart will burst and fade.

She will drown him in her soul.