I claw at the air,
but the air does not answer.
Each breath is a stone
sinking deeper into my chest.
Tears fall like ghosts—
soundless, unseen—
a river of sorrow
no one notices.
My heart trembles,
a frightened bird in a cage
beating against cold ribs,
its wings breaking with every strike.
The world turns gray,
my mind hollow—
a vacant house where
shadows whisper of endings.
I shout without voice,
I cry without sound,
a body convulsing with
silent earthquakes.
And in the silence
death feels like a door—
the only door,
a place where pain
finally dissolves
into the mercy of nothingness.
YOU ARE READING
Panic attacks
PoetryThis is what a panic attack feels like from the inside. A poem on the suffocating grip of anxiety and the fight to just breathe.
