Panic Attack In Paris
A poem from the diary of a female nomad
Panic attack at the lights
in Montparnasse — shoes hit
the crosswalk, heart on the ground.
The cars keep coming and I feel like
I’m going to die. The loudest noise
is my own breathing.
Time and the world pass
and when the fear
swells in my throat
like an un-chewed bite,
I can’t swallow it
down.
My heart beats like a fist
against the door of my ribcage —
Nobody’s home.
I need you to know
that I’m not okay,
that the pain is real
and it’s deep and
all encompassing.
I can’t breathe.
I’m a star being choked
to death in the heavens,
sparks chafing away
as I battle in the wordless war
between the light and the dark.
I’m a cloud of dust and debris
circling a dying star
in a universe gone backward,
a burning candle held up to a mirror
as it melts into wax.
I’m drowning and
there’s no air here.
This piece was inspired by Ravyne Hawke’s prompt for Friday, February 10, 2023, although I wrote a poem, not fiction. I am trying so hard to write short stories because I would like to make the jump from that to writing a novel, but so far it just isn’t working for me. Nonfiction comes so much easier because that’s what I’ve practiced for many years. Grrr!
Fiction Friday Prompt:
Write a story around the following:
— a bottomless pit
— a moment of despair
— a hopeful or hopeless outcome
Here are a couple other works I’ve published with Promptly Written:
