Feels like latex ,tastes like Vanilla extract. Your ego forgets to latch on and greed swoops in Contemplating..more like pouring your energy into worth while projects . Perhaps then ,your body for a split second would belong to you , stitch what’s left of it anyways but more often , Silence that knows inadequate and shame creeps in . You mistake it for comfort, you hunch over hearing the echo in your belly , You choke back tears and the countdown starts..
Snapshot of a panic attack.
