Panic's Poems

Never quite figured out what to do with myself

when things are too quiet, too calm

waiting for yet another storm to wreck my health

because both physically and mentally it’s too far gone.

Escapism, dissociation… fancy ways to say you’re hiding

from what? Who knows. But you know it’s coming.

Exhaustion is building and will eventually crash

almost three years sober and still feel like getting smashed.

So we do therapy with pen and paper, posting online

anything to avoid racking up more debt than medically necessary

held down by so much in the “land of the free”

it’s almost like they want and need us to be this weak.

Orion – 2021