Frenzy

By: Makayla Berry

My eyes dart from object to object  

Frantic.

My heartbeat seems to raise from 30 to 80 beats per minute

Breathe.

The breaths I scramble to inhale don’t seem to catch up with the sporadic beats in my chest.

 

I start counting.

Counting the tortuous, neverending seconds until I get it together

Rubbing my sweaty, trembling hands onto my denim jeans,

I begin to notice every aspect of it.

The small, unconstrained, haphazard movements of it.

The limbs tingling, head spinning, hand trembling, neck twitching, complete numbness of it.

I can’t breathe.

 

If they could take all but a glimpse, they would discover all the paranoia infecting every thought and feeling.

If they could validate any part of my consciousness, I would feel a sense of ease.

That of an elderly woman who has stood for hours, finally getting the chance to take a seat.

I might not feel so incredibly out of place

Or maybe that’s all I will ever be.

Simply out of place.