it wasn't that the throat tightening,
shaky hands,
light headed feeling was welcome,
but more that it was familiar
in the sense that loud noises,
raised voices,
and speaking up,
seemingly separated my heart
and lungs
from my chest,
to observe as an independent third party,
an indifferent omniscient force.
that these occurrences,
were more common than not
and provoked a feeling of deja vu
at such a discomfort
that the one thing that remained consistent
was unsteady heart beats,
wavering lungs,
and the feeling of lost control
but maybe it wasn't alone in familiarity
because i'd be lying
if i said dying wasn't welcome
