museum trip

it all started to cascade

like the churning waters of the white rapids

when you were a kid

that trip

why is that in your head

indistinct drawings of stick figures and strange beasts, the flickering light of torches wash across the cave wall, the sounds of something primal, stalking, low growling bounced around the empty walls

a flash of teeth

claws like razors tear through the air like daggers

and then silence for the slightest of moments

you hear your heartbeat in your ears

pounding

it wants to escape your chest

but you force yourself to breath

it is an exhibit

you had a panic attack

anxious energy cause your limbs to shake

everyone is staring

the manic tension you are giving off is palpable

mothers clutch their children close

looks of panic all around

you’re outside

hands hurt, shoulders hurt

the cuffs are too tight

you didn’t do anything

but images of rage pulse in and out of focus

you didn’t do anything

did you

it’s all a blur

shapes and colors and raw emotion are just out of touch

the top of your tongue

do you taste blood

a coppery sensation fills your mouth and nose

spit

it is pink

what happened in there

did you take your meds this morning

you were in a hurry

rushing back and forth

you nearly forgot deodorant

got toothpaste on your collar

ate an orange

no

an apple

got the bottle off the counter

moved them to the table

unopened as you ran out to catch the train

no

nononono

the museum was fun

the tour guide was cute

she smiled and answered your questions

you didn’t ask any

wait

the strobe lights in the early man exhibit

your head hurt

the room was spinning

the boat was going to over turn
the water

a rock clipped the back of your head

you floated

how long

days

hours

seconds

time stretched out as blood made the foamy waters around you maroon

angry

the guard asked something

“Are you alright?”

why did you jump at him

he wasn’t going to throw his keys at you

but he wasn’t there

you were drowning

he was a demon

you weren’t ready to go yet

how did you get to the museum

where’s mom

you are on a stretcher and the nice man has a needle

he squirts a little clear fluid into the air

and then jams it hard into your neck

darkness

floating in the water

your last image is mom

floating face down

you cannot reach out to her as hard as you try

sleep

One thought on “museum trip

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