You feel it coming on.
It crawls,
Crescendoing down
Your sweat beaded back.
Sending cold rushes
Through your veins,
Like chilled, rapid pumped poison.
Leaving little bugs
Crawling under your skin
Making you feel like a stranger
In your own body.
As your eyes widen and empty,
You become hyper-vigilant.
The world caught in your throat.
The ocean caught in your eyes
While thoughts race recklessly
Through your head.
Than they crash,
Like drunk drivers on lone streets
At 4 in the morning.
YOU ARE READING
Chevron Notebook
PoesíaA composition of personal poems from a mind of a teenager searching for relation, happiness, and mental stability through her day to day struggles. Writing in hopes that when you read you can find some relation to her writing so you know you're not...
