The Wait

Photo Credit : “Anxiety Man” by Moebius (Jean) Giraud

A sudden brush of the nerves left him buckled beneath the stifling embrace of all bleak notions;
the rise of his previously consumed nourishment warred harshly against his esophagus,
slashing and dashing every attempt of hindrance pursuing to reveal itself in all of its rancid glory;
Pummeled by gory fists as they punched their way through his tunneled veins,
a stream of pins and needles prickled at his limbs,
faint reminders that life still surged his soul;
A few muttered words to encourage his well-being went unfathomed as his head partook in a round of shake and stir,
prompting a cold sweat that sprinkled along the sides his grimaced face as the walls of the room drew in;
His chest thundered with vibration from the aortic machine pounding angrily against his sternum,
livid at the lack of oxygen from his previously unnoticed hyperventilation.
In attempt to regain composure, he made a dash towards the door where fresh air blew with galore,
an excuse to escape he knew,
only to be halted by the call of his name.

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