Anxiety

It's like ice flowing through my veins,

Reaching even my fingertips,

Both palms cold and clammy,

Because my blood is rushing to leave to surface,

Hiding deeper inside,

Leaving me pale and shaky.

My heart stuck between racing,

And not beating at all.

My mind is in chaos,

Unable to differentiate friend from foe,

Flooded with the irrational need to run,

To get away from a nonexistent threat.

My breathing quickening,

As if my lungs were convinced I'm already running.

My stomach in knots,

And lurching up my throat,

As if to get away from my frozen figure.

But there's no possible way to shed my insecurities,

As much a part of me as my own bones.

With me until the day I cease to exist.