Worry like a wormhole and piercing panic like a thousand stabbing pins. When my breaths turn into labored pants as I grasp for another reason to keep breathing. When the clear perceivable world outside my irises pixelized and slowly melts off into the black. When my frozen stature flakes and disintegrates and the shake of my hand becomes an earthquake. My body is splitting on a fault line, ripping apart. The only thing holding me together is the melodies that pour through my ears. The earbuds I desperately shove into my ears as the words of their voices erase the mess of smudged pencil lines in my brain. The smooth shushing of their voices fights the raging fire that has engulfed me—drowning me all to extinguish the panicked hellfire I have created for myself. The poisoning pit below me dragging me into its ink. Heaving chests and spilling tears. Worry like a wormhole and piercing panic like a thousand stabbing pins.
