When I was younger,
it would happen.
Walking through halls
in bathroom stalls
a rising panic
would lead to shortness of
breath
until I was
gasp—
ing
for air.
There were times when I could not take a deep breath no matter
how
hard
I
tried.
I felt an unbearable weight on my chest,
a coiled snake around my throat.
Is this normal?
Why me?
How can I make this
STOP?
The hot tears would well,
my mind would race,
and the snake would tighten its grip.
In this life
I have experienced
pain so intense
at first
it stopped my breath—
fear felt like plunging into
icy waters,
a sharp inhale
followed by an unrelenting hold.
Grief was a long, slow sigh
with no end in sight.
UNTIL
I realized I had one tool within me.
Always.
In. And. Out—
I learned
to find peace
in between
deep breaths.
To feel the sus—
pension of thought:
weightless
blissful
peaceful
and vast.
And I knew
I would have it with me
always.
Through everything.
I knew it had been there all along.
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