mind killer

the daemon sits on my chest and steals my breath. this was much feared through history, you know. now they call it sleep paralysis and that is not what is happening here. 

the panic is unnameable. maybe i will call it terror. the big black midnight blue-swirling storm ripping away at bits of me, inside to out. inside i cracked at that place. i didn't tell you this morning because self-shards can't talk. can only make my hands shake and blood race. not to the lungs, i guess. daemon's got that covered.

the terror is not real. i know this. you hold my hand but i can't feel it. daemon steals sensation too. are my fingertips terror-blue? is that my voice, calling out?

i recognise nothing. 

ok the pills yes please, i know we said no but my daemon's grown, leapt into the shattering shards of my self with his tongue hanging out between the fangs with excitement. a small boy with a carton of lego. 

listen to the rain on the streets. can you hear it? the puddles, they panic to be sluiced through. then the nothing without cars. in that silence the rain and i, we can be still. raise my ribcage. release the ripples.
but it's a busy street. not enough time for breaths.

i do not think pain would be the worst of dying. so many are afraid of that. terror is the mind-killer. 

paralysis. 

not fight or flight. freeze. will the arteries burst on their own or must i cut them open to fight back?

i want the pills now. i don't care please. i cannot even move enough to cry.