Internal Panic

I have only just begun
But have already failed
By not succeeding
In my first attempt

The illuminated streaks
Like neon mascara,
Run across closed lids.
Scientifically they're afterimage,
But represent more
Than complementary colors.

The chaos they contain
Attains perfection in reflection,
But details fail to be so blunt
And are left to one's imagination.

The impossibility to understand
Is the tissue of my skin
But emotions are raw
And that I comprehend

Internal Panic, so potently pithy
Scores my soul scathingly clean,
Vaporizing belief like
Festering germs,
Leaving blisters on my heart.

Such domesticity found in a wildcat
Hibernation, aestivation.
It lies dormant
Writhing in wait for failure.

The impossibility to understand
Is the layer underneath,
But what and how I feel
Is just whats my belief.

I long for my white soldiers
To snap it's brutal vice,
But when immunity is an aching
And panic becomes the lungs,
I
don't
breathe

Although Jesus is my inbetween
Failure flies
And Peter cries,
And it's then that I regress

The impossibilty to understand
Is the reason below the fear
But the only thing I recognize,
Is the hollow, raw emotions.