panic sits inside my shoulder
just under the skin
wiggling spiderset leggy, crawling
3 a.m. do you know where your children are?
i check, don’t trust my eyes
other senses won’t wake
drive a tractor toward a fence
can’t go fast enough to break through
are they on the other side
am i running to or from something
hold my hand, am i really here
bubbles become breath, no breath is bubbly
spiders lie, right, it’s not real
4 a.m. do you know where your children are?
they aren’t little but the world is bigger now
eyes too open, close them
rest your head upon my shoulder
my head doesn’t know where to rest
it spins, a top loose upon the table, it trips the horse
we tumble, tangled limbs, hoofs, hair
spider calls its friends, a party moves down my body
pop the champagne, let’s go
5 a.m. do you know where your children are?
pull the legs off so they can’t scurry inside
i still feel them even when i say they aren’t real
exterminators tell me they got every single one
but why do i hear them tap dancing
clever cat knows, he will find them for me
hearts can only take so much, he purrs
6 a.m. do you know where your children are?
too late to take the little white pill, stuff to do
it makes me sleepy—fight it, fight it, fight it
eight-leg shadows find my chest, neck, eyes
fine, take it, one loud swallow
fingers find keyboard, words trip/flip/skip
not good enough, not anything, fine, all fine
check kids one more time, one more time
one
more
time
step outside, cool air brushes skin softer
morning traffic sounds, my ocean
in and out, nothing else, we breathe
seagulls cry with the mourning doves
time to do last night’s dishes
another load of laundry
i know where my kids are

Author’s note: I suffer from occasional panic attacks. I had one this morning and penned these words in an attempt to capture the feeling.