The evening begins with laughter.
Cheerful voices swirl around me
oxygenating my blood,
as I float from one required task to the next,
elevated by the sensation.

Then it happens.

A trigger clicks within my chest.

Elation takes a hairpin turn
into panic.

Descending into
dizzy desperation
I fall backwards into
the quarries of my mind,
into the mines of my qualms.

My breath is agitated
my vision spirals into
impetuous distress,
paralyzed in a cylinder
of my own dread.

In obscurity I grope
for my bearings
frantically searching
for a way back
into my being.

Then subtly,

almost imperceptibly,

my prison walls begin to thaw,
tiny trickles slither silently
until tension
like an early morning
ocean fog.

Lucidity returns,
a cherished friend
soothing my tattered spirit,
offering me a steaming cup of tea
on a brittle winter day.


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