Random poetry

Panic room

Panic room, every room I'm in is my panic room.

Why do we call it a panic room if it's supposed to calm you down, why don't we call it a calm room, that's why every room I panic in is my panic room.

The room fills with people of all religions, races, sexes, and sexualities, but you can't help but feel that everyone's judging eyes are on you.

You start to avert your eyes to the floor because that's much more interesting than being judged, your breath quickens and becomes uneven, you start to sweat, shake, and look away, you clutch onto your body because your the only support you've got, because it's too much of a bother to tell your mother,

your stomach is being ringed by the thoughts that won't leave, you can't seem to breathe because the cries for help that you desperately want to speak, can't seem to leave because your mind can't seem to think, while your eyes can't see, past the walls closing in,

but you can't back away from their stares because you're trying to move but your feet aren't prepared, for at that moment you fall and lose control of it all, as your world comes crashing down, much like your body to the ground.

Your body is racked with sobs, curling into yourself cause you're the only support you've got as you sit alone in your

PANIC ROOM