This poem describes perfectly ("Blindly crash as reality begins to
seethe") what happens to me during my panic attacks. (Leave behind the things I once knew) Though I sometimes forget to breathe and pass out. . .
You've wrote the poem so well. I especially like
"Poison reaches through finger tips
It comes out clotted and gray"
Anyway keep it up, I love reading your works.

Nice description. My grandma had panic attacks, and that is just how they feel, Im sure. Very good job.

Yup... That's pretty much how it feels... @_@; Good job, Young One. ^^
~WZB~