Again

A section from a story I started

I was sitting on the beach, the sand, my favorite white bikini, the smell of sunscreen, the rush of waves, the rainbow shade of the umbrella, the fabric of my towel; all so solid. Sitting and laughing, seeing myself looking out towards the waves. I looked too, shifted the camera angle to see what I thought was so funny. My stomach lurched and my vision warped and shadowed for a moment. A white smile set in a summer tan, wave styled hair. Same old body, same old trunks, same old laugh. I could see myself getting up and feel it at the same time. The hot sand on my feet as I rushed out to meet him and cold water pressed against me. I felt myself start to blab, talking just to talk, talking because I was happy, not hearing myself because subconciously my concious didn't want to remember the words. The hum of my voice was dull coming from inside me. I glanced off down the beach to a shining pool leftover from the tide, the focus became closer

collarbone

neck

lips

bow

shimmer

sweat

black

lashes

And that's when I started falling. Not into the sand, upward, into the sky that drained it's color and faded back to black, into static that formed into my sheets and walls. It was disturbingly quiet until I realized I was holding my breath. My heart was pattering unevenly like an tired animal in a cage. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to get to sleep, without dreaming, without thinking.

Author's Note

Any comments or critiques?

Reviews

[therisa]

The way, this poem lays out the scene before the reader, one gets the impression of PTSD flashback triggering an anxiety attack afterwards. How the static become your sheets and walls. As someone who suffers from flashbacks and anxiety attacks, you have nailed it perfectly, what it feels to have one.

[augustmoon80]

I find this interesting. I can almost feel the warm sun on my shoulders.

[Irish_Ranger]

That was very interesting. I'm having a bit of trouble understanding the context of all this, though. At first glance it seems like a love story gone somewhat wrong. Or looking it a different way, I'm thinking it may be an interesting look at someone's depression, especially with the way you describe dullness inside... sounds like a general feeling of apathy to me. At least, that's how I see it.

This is pretty well-written overall. No typos as far as I can see, the language is nice and fluent with a generous amount of description. I really can't find anything to complain about with this.