Terrible Instinct

I hate it when they ask,
"What's wrong?"
How am I to answer that?

I guess,
I could say
My heart is in my throat.
It hurts to swallow.
One-two … one-two
The beating echoes in my ear,
Rupturing the back of my throat.

I guess,
I could say
I'm just tired.
The monsters of my nightmares keep me awake,
Haunting me, threatening to engulf me whole.
Frightening, that I may never
See the light of day
If I close my eyes
For more than a second.

I guess,
I could say
My stomach is in knots.
A nest of slithering snakes,
Moving in various directions.
I haven't been able to enjoy
A meal for a while.
The snakes are always hungry.
Never satisfied; always moving.

I guess,
I could say
It hurts to breathe.
Breathe in … breathe out.
Shallow breaths,
Pushing against my ribs;
Chest tightening.
Aggravating the knot of snakes.

I guess,
I could say
I'm scared.
Afraid of change,
That I know should happen.
Nervous for the future.
Afraid of everything:
Afraid of nothing.

And I guess,
You would answer:
That I'm overreacting,
Insomnia is getting to me,
I need to take things one step at a time,
To slow down:
Being afraid is natural,
It'll all be okay…

I hate it when they ask,
"What's wrong?"
They're replies to my response
Never seems to satisfy.