This can't be life

When I am hyper aware of my existence nausea and fear wash over me like a cold shower to a wanton man. 
Waking me instantly.

'Talk' they say.  

'A problem shared is a problem halved', they chant. 

Well okay 

I am loneliest in fully packed rooms.  

As I enter a room I fantasize of the numerous ways it could end. 

I imagine choking on my own breath, more times than I care to count.  

Most times I feel like a pressurized propane aerosol can.  

Yearning, waiting to release a cloud of blood and tears.  

Silence,

Slow blink, fear
Slow blink, disgust
Slow blink, confusion

Bewilderment 

I spoke and your reaction shouted back at me

Your mouth unmoving  

I say I am joking

Lighten the load for you 

Clear the air for me   

Have you seen the Jihad John documentary on Channel 4?  

Swiftly change the subject 

The chains tightening around me 

The distance between us widening.  

Our realities becoming incongruent.