Tremors

Earthquakes rolling deep inside,
ripping fissures within my calm,
faults crossing through the brain,
shaking in such shivering fractures
the mental plains of serene.

Anxiety is an executioner
keeping nerves in an electric chair,
unbearable is the waiting
for senses to be fried,
ever second spent not reaching
the place planned to stop
becomes a heart pounding symphony,
a hell of flaming torturous ants
crawling around inside the gut,
which never stop biting
until the agony passes.

Living on the top floor
in an emotional house of cards,
collapsing at slightest pause
of the movement in expectation’s watch.

Patient is a imitation raiment
tattered and frayed,
it never fit correctly
no tailor found to make adjustments,
covered in images of stress dominoes
standing in a cerebral fragile line,
easily knocked over by slightest shift in time.