Without the Music,
Without that peripheral noise attacking my ear drums
I drown in the sound of my own thoughts.
The crush on the bus disturbs me
I feel that familiar flutter in my stomach.
A bird awaking from a long sleep in my inards,
Flapping its wings with the ferocity of a Pterodactyl.
Waking me from my thoughtful slumber.
Then, the beating of those wings begins to impede my breathing
Even as I write I feel that familiar hand grasping at my throat,
Clawing its way through my peace of mind.
I can't escape the bus
or my nightmare.
I must see my journey through
trips, falls, crushes
fill my thoughts.
And, without music I can do nothing but surrender to that