Analysis of Panic Attack

Red roses
The red roses I’m holding.
Trying not to let go trying to hold on.
I look to my feet.
and see my hands start to bleed.
The thorns are cutting deep.
and are revealing what’s beneath.
I am torn from what I see.
And I can’t control my breathing.
I start to sink.
Stuck in my head.
Stuck in my thoughts.
Nothing can take me out of this tense feeling of remorse.
What have I done.
This is no more fun.
I’m starting to believe your own head can be the monster under your bed.
I can’t control it.
I can’t control them.
I slip in to the abys.
I’m falling.
I’m crying.
I’m screaming.
My eyes fall shut and that’s the end of it.
the end of them.