Kasandra Larsen
Panic
I sit straight up in bed, erect, all eyes
blown open to search
each inch of dark, pulled
by fear’s skinny arm to shake
from under covers, no matter
he’s not here, a dream, bad
memory, parasite inside my brain
but it’s too late: my heart
is a sleepy cow trapped
in a barn ablaze, my breath is lost
between my sick gut and temples pounding
and the light is on, the light
has come on somehow, I have crossed
the room flipped
the switch and can see
nothing. Ears a roar, deafening
blank, pathetic tremble, face
so wet I forget words and who can I call
at three a.m. as I walk, faster, lean
forward, run, shake my arms, wiggle
numb fingers, slam my body against
the walls to quiet the crazy drum
pacing my skin’s cage
in my apartment’s cage
in a circle, a circle, a circle?