A Gray thursday afternoon

[a damp panic attack]

I trembled uncontrollably,

unable to stop vomiting.

The edges of the world blurred,

and people’s gazes scraped across my skin.

The scenery swelled like a balloon—

then collapsed without warning.

White curtains,

a cold emergency room bed.

In a trembling voice, I said,

“I need a sedative.”

Over my withering body,

a sheer silk blouse clung smooth and silent.

Beneath it,

my stomach expelled everything.

A quiet ER.

Inside the paused time,

only the raw sensation remained—

uncovered, untouched.

#Note: This is an early creative draft.The final version of this poem has been reworked and rivised and submitted elswere.