There is a pounding...
It is not rhythmical,
There is no consistency,
No way of predicting...
It is a threatening sound.
Attempting to take me over.
It crept up on me...
And now will not leave.
There is a hand on my throat.
It chokes back the sobs,
But the tears run free.
It grabs too tightly,
I barely breathe,
But I breathe.
There is a movement.
Just barely noticeable,
But it is there.
The rhythmical pounding of my heart,
It threatens to break my ribcage.
The fear that grips my throat,
It keeps me awake.
The movement of my own body...
Barely noticeable,
But I shake, I quiver, I jolt...
God let this end.