I’m trying to keep calm, even though inside I’m flying apart.
I’m trying to breathe, even though my lungs feel filled with gel and each inhale a Herculean effort.
I’m trying to be attentive, even though in my head I’ve left the room, the building, the town.
I’m trying to remind myself this is temporary, even though I feel like I’ll never feel anything but this again.
I’m trying to stay collected, even though I want to rip away these clothes like they’re made of fire ants and rough spun wool instead of soft cotton.
I’m trying to smile and be “normal” even though my face aches at the motion and my eyes tell the truth of my feelings without permission.
I’m trying to remember this will pass, even though it feels like it’s been hours instead of the minutes since the feeling started.
I’m trying.