Open the door- Blind panic attacks the unprepared.

Open the door- Blind panic attacks the unprepared.

What waits there?

The door,

Half open,

Or is that closed?

Darkening shadows gather

In out of the way places.

Deepening corners

Swallow light,

And shady shelters become

An over hang,

Threatening to fall.

As air once fresh

And sweet

Is now hung, heavy

With a taste of panic,

A sense of suffocation.

There is a quickening,

Each breath,

Shorter than the last,

The heart beating,

Much too fast.

And every second

That inches past,

Is set to drown,

In a wash

Of ice cold sweat.

A paradox,

Of perspiration,

That sizzles,

In the heat

Of your own skin’s radiation.

It is too late to stop

This exposure,

As dread sets in.

And the brass handle

Invites,

An orb of fire and ice.

Your chest crushed

By a tightening vice,

Breathing stopped.

And in that breathless hush

You await

The shadows,

Fearful touch.

Until,

With a careless wrench,

A reckless twist,

You unlock the gate

Cold fear has set before you,

And step across

The barrier,

That now becomes

A threshold,

From whence

Journey’s end begins.

As breathing recommences,

And in this

Welcome resolution

The nameless fear

That panic is,

Subsides.

Pushed further back,

Into that place

Where it might

Still reside,

Until the next time

Darkness falls,

And it might

Yet return and seek,

A final retribution.