A Panic

Sucking tar grips and
sticks, arresting any
forward motion.

Gnarled, creeping fingers
frisk along limbs and compress
with a strength contradicting their
brittle appearance.

The weight of the world bubbling
over; suffocating with an
inhuman cackle.
Exertions all for naught,
attempts at escape denied at
each try;

until one calming
thought reminds:

just breathe.

by Erik Shinker