Panic Attacks

I don't know what panic is, but I have learnt what it means to survive all alone in the city with - fear, helplessness and hopelessness.

All I wished was to wake up as someone else without a past that I held. Without those pains that don't belong to me, and yet burden my soul.

I burn myself with chains of thoughts, and my body shivers brutally, my heart throbs as if I will vomit my being outside.

I struggle to breath, but I can't find any air around. In those moments my nostrils feel blocked. 

I cry and I cry, because I don't know which pain is aching inside. 

I don't know why does it hurt? 

Tomorrow, it will be just another day in the city, just another 24 hours of my walking around - it's all futile.

But sometimes, I can't wake up, yes - it hurts. Still, some things hurt more. 

Hurts that I will waste another day in the city which doesn't do anything great. 

One another day of not pretending productivity, or maybe I'll be there - in between of it all. 

Still in pain, without a trace of hint on my skin. 

Wiping the sweat, smiling and clicking selfies. 

I can't run away, but my soul has already departed. And in between I feel stuck. 

The alarm says that 'three more hours of go' 

My question is - will my mind be convinced enough to not behave anything like this in that meantime? 

Swallowing saliva from a dry throat I force myself to sleep, and it seems like the dark demons will strangle me. 

With open eyes, I see the rooftop and turn the alarm off. 

Deleting my psychiatrist's number - I run through the corridor - struggling to find air. 

But I never said our panic attacks need to look same - or maybe it doesn't look any different from outside.

Our panic doesn't have to look same!