it’s like punching a tree

sometimes fear

washes over me

without warning

not even a whisper

a cold thick sensation

my brain and body

submerged in a swamp

i don’t fear something

i just fear it all

questions float and dip

i can’t get my bearings

i can’t find east

my life has become

a scooby doo rerun

everyone running

to nowhere

just trying to escape the inescapable

walking means falling

stuttering through stories

my skin a water-balloon

all movement stops

trembling like a leaf

in an arctic wind

exhaustion and fatigue

tossing and turning

writhing and thrashing

muscles acting alone

without consent

waiting and wondering

blood, pictures, tubes

the anesthesiologist

doctors behind masks

instruments down my throat

cutting and scraping

stenosis and sclerosis

15 pills twice daily

the nervous pacing echos

fear they won’t find it

hope it’s treatable

fear it will be too late

hoping for a day to spare

living in doubt of my mind

specialists of all sorts

neuro- micro-specialists

all the resources available

there is still no one to answer

the burning question:

what the fuck is wrong with me

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