Panic. A poem by Kay Liston

Head bent to knees,
I stay small,
With arms wrapped tightly around myself.
Holding fast ‘til this storm breaks.
Singing inside, my sweetest song,
But silently.
Closing out the sounds that steal my peace.
Breathing deeply;
I let my heart slow down and
Inhale the firm belief that this will pass.
I am still;
Still in such a way that nothing moves me,
Inside or out,
Except my breath.

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