Tight Spaces

The tightness creeps, a sudden clench,

like vines coiling around my chest.

In the grocery store’s chaotic wrench,

a kid screams, jars fall, I’m pressed.

Fluorescent lights flicker like fading stars,

shadows grow in aisles, split my breath,

each blur of color a silent war,

with thundering heartbeats, I face my death.

I close my eyes, the world shrinks down,

when chaos rises, I swim alone,

while shelves tremble, I feel like a clown,

a joke too real, skin chilled to the bone.